Ink it out! 

Souldier Girl

Art speaks in limitless ways

The way dancers flock to an open space
The way brushstrokes externalize a buried rage
The way a chef sprinkles rosemary and sage
The way a writer grips to the connection of a page
Or a stick
Grounded dirt or sand
I once wrote with my fingernail on the shakiness of my panicked palm
Bathroom stalls and park benches
Sometimes lipstick and a mirror appear heaven gifted
When my daughter died I scribbled inside my head
The litter of leftover thoughts
Still murmur like a distant rattling of mamas mixing pots
Beyond a perfect line, circle or square
Is my stream of penmanship
Combating the woo of normalness
I do my best work under the duress of craziness
I wrote on a notepad in a bathtub in a hotel room
They said my brother was dying
And I didn’t know what the fuck else to…

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