Between each breath
one, maybe two seconds at most,
a tiny space of nothingness.
My passport can’t get me there.
Driving faster, running harder,
multitasking while eating lunch
working later, doing more…
no closer to my destination.
“Where would you like to travel to?” they ask.
someplace between
inhale
and exhale.
© Ali Grimshaw
She knew what must be done
while fear sliced through her
cutting deeply
unwavering was her stance.
she had learned
pain was only temporary
what mattered was
her soul
was in one piece.
© Ali Grimshaw
Spills splattered the walls.
Counters filled with clutter,
multiple piles creating a new geography in the room.
There is a relief to cleaning it all away.
Everything in order. Repair and replace.
The seduction of a new cycle, sparkling clean.
Free from marks of history.
What if we could sit with Chaos
for just a little minute?
Feel the wind in our ears.
Hearing her secrets of cleverness.
Soaking in the learning of this undone space.
Before an opportunity is erased.
A past disinfected before she can author her story
from which the plot differs from
perpetual duplicating.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2016
Despair for the moment to come
willing my body to enter the room
a mountain of mortification on my back
facing those faces
being seen while craving camouflage.
Owning the me that showed up today
failure and intention,
with a disappointing lack of action.
While seeking an empty seat I am
investigating the ability to shed my skin,
to start fresh. Becoming
a blank slate that holds
not a bit of old chalk dust.
© Ali Grimshaw
The quiet between us
like floating icebergs
tongues frostbit into stillness
is it that we have forgotten what to say
misplaced our formula to speak,
a habitual slow retreat to safety?
“What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing.”
I am uncertain how to start the
defrost cycle.
© Ali Grimshaw
Once balanced on their ends
the squares fall, one nudging the other.
A tumbling of memories,
replaying like a film made from still pictures.
held together by a plot that used to make sense.
Now I hold a new appreciation for the structure
that held them in place for years. The straining sides
that were keeping order, now dissolved,
layers becoming a ferris wheel of change
arriving as a new shape on the floor.
© Ali Grimshaw
Today
I possess the power
to return your judgemental gaze
with full ownership of who I am.
“Yes, this is me.”
A me of mistakes,
fearless learning,
repeated crashing and rising,
heart wide open
scars and wounds visible
capable of the unimaginable
love of Herculean strength.
I won’t ever fit in your box.
I am my own coloring book.
© Ali Grimshaw
flashlight batteries - Ali Grimshaw 