poems

our reduction

What does it mean to fight anymore

It’s all smooth-faced, puffy-lipped little girls 

fighting for each other’s attention

begging to be seen

It’s all little rascals sitting in the back of class

fighting to be known, yelling at their teacher

as a cover for something that cuts us deeper

We pretend, we put on this show

as if we really are that shallow and scared

All of us are and none of us are

so distilled, so reduced

so caught up in the tiny boxes we’ve built

Just hoping our complexity isn’t killed

Before the in betweens were stripped away

by spectacle and painted words

It was the silence

that carried the very thing we crave

It was the summer sun

searing our grass stained minds

and intoxicating us with a warmth so strong

It could be summoned

even in our final days

Instead we slice ourselves into bite-size bits

rehearse our ways of being

running in and out of frame

to keep up the illusion

that our richest parts

aren’t cradled in the mundane

So what does it mean to fight anymore

What does it mean to love

Is it enough

to shake yourself out of that little mold

so that you may recognize your own hands

and see your own children for who they really are

long after they’ve left your arms