who knows where the flood comes from
but when it happens
you just got to keep on paddling

She came in a thousand unsolved pieces

A myriad of ways to be put back together

But none complete her...

Poetry is a gift
Unwrap carefully
The contents are exposed
Bringing tears to the eyes
Or perhaps a smile
What one accepts
Another refuses
The giver is vulnerable
Giving openly of themselves

I let you trace out my heart
in dotted lines
When I asked why you didn't
colour it?...
You said it was in black & white

And now that you're gone,
my tears are doing their best ,
going through the dots ,
resurrecting the picture

my blood is flowing through,
providing the colour

Perhaps you made me an artist
Cause
Whenever I'm asked about the rough texture,the cracks,the fadings....
My answer is always....MOSAIC...

I am a beautiful imperfection
I am an unfinished work of art
I am flawed and bruised beyond recognition
So many ugly scars covers my heart.

Thinking about getting a tattoo
But, I take pause...
Looking in the mirror
I see my body’s already covered
Marked in invisible ink
Every inch of my bare skin
Painted with the joy and pain of living
From my heart to my hips
Color faded here, but poppin’ over there
Memories designed by your hands
Others etched on my own
A collection that makes me smile
Among a few pieces I regret
So, about getting a tattoo...
I guess I’m not ready
Because I can’t think of a tattoo
Meaningful enough, yet
To write over any of the life I’ve lived