Her Story

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                                                Image courtesy of: Pintrest

Woman:

Refined and Revolutionary

We march

We speak

We look you in the eye

We frighten you with our wisdom

birthed in struggles and strife

Our stories belong to us and we belong to ourselves

Yet, you seek to define us:

Girl, Whore, Broad, Mistress, Wife, Femme Fatale

 Your connotations are infinite

as you seek to keep us finite

You seek to degrade us as you adjudicate us 

Your savage measures threaten our subsistence

  Good sirs:

You only fan the flames

We have no fear

Only a familiar female fury

 We will not wait

 We will storm the gates

 And rise once more:

 A phoenix from the ashes of your fires

Day 26. I had another word in mind today. Perhaps it will work tomorrow. This is it for today.

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A Stella(r)Story

Credit: www.astrologyforearthrenewal.com

Stella knew for certain that she would never really miss Mick; only the idea of him. She was relieved when his piss stopped showing up on the toilet. He was once a stunner of a man in that rough around the edges sort of way. Compact and short, his presence loomed large whenever he entered a room. She liked his vehement attention at first; his passion for her was electric. Stella was stunned by his voracious appetites and his seemingly unending attention.

Stella wasn’t what you’d call a classic beauty. Kinky ashen curls decorated her cupid-like visage. Petite, with hips that swayed enough to turn heads and breasts that Mick compared to buttercups. He’d come home from work at the pit, shine himself up and lose himself inside her.

The ride was high for years.Two bountiful boys kept them on their toes and further fueled their passion for each other. And like a fast speeding car that encounters one hairpin turn too many, their affair flamed out. Mick’s craving for cards and the accompanying vices soon got the best of him and them.

The arguments and the silences that followed only got more fierce. Money got tight and then nearly nonexistent. He lost himself in the drink now; his once alluring bearing shrunken. He lurked where he once pranced. And then he seemed to just disappear.

Stella rose up. She wasn’t one to snivel nor shrink from a tough situation. Working the lunch crowd gave her a boost; her tips paid the rent and the hard work fueled her rather than leave her wasted. Months went by. The boys grew strong and steady under the tough but loving gaze of their mother. They would not mess around.Their fear of her disappointment outweighing any possible consequences brought by teenage temptations.

She had grown into her own woman. Stella-Bella all the men called her. Each one desperate in their desire for her. But she would have none of it. “Been there. Done that,” she said. Stella was sure that real love would knock on her door eventually.

And in a sheet of downpour on a windy April afternoon, he did. Soaked and battered and need of something warm, Jack slipped out of his drenched jacket and into her life.

What’s in Your Wallet?

messy purse

IS MY PURSE A REFLECTION OF MYSELF?

DO I NEED TO TRAVEL LIGHTER?

TIME TO TAKE AN INVENTORY:

One long brown mini-purse that holds

$40 cash and various plastic cards

13 crumpled receipts that should be tossed

1 broken bracelet with the word “Passion” written on it

4 pens

1 journal

1 lime green sticky note pad

2 packs of gum

3 business cards

1 thumbnail drive-contents forgotten

4 tubes of lipstick

1 panty shield

2 tampons

A daily planner that I never use

3 shriveled napkins

An article about the Great Pacific Garbage Patch

2 pairs of sunglasses: 1 broken and 1 too big for my face

1 pair (of 3) reading glasses

1 tube of tarocco orange hand lotion-:it smells so clean!

2 used art museum tickets:an Easter memory

2 travel sized dental floss containers

A paper clip

An old grocery shopping list

A bandaid

TIME FOR SPRING CLEANING!