Does it upset you?

After Audre Lorde

I have been woman,

for a long time.

Youth was fragile -

scary at times

nonadjustable to 

the shape I was becoming.

Misunderstood I was.

Out of mind, troubled

when I didn't quite like 

the safety of home, 

control or harassment. 

I died many deaths  

each time returning 

with a new survivor in me. 

Fear no longer suited me. 

I’ve grown into  

a thousand-year-old tree.

They cut a branch,

take a leaf-

it grows back.

It always grows back.

Try and take the sun

out of day. 

There are birds living in me,

one always sings;

and a fox curled up on the shed,

just a stone’s throw away  

in my garden, looks at me.

Under my living room, where 

I keep vases in different shapes 

and colours, painted and 

filled with wildflowers, 

there’s a cellar

and below that,

an ocean,

pounding.

With every tide 

I become water -

Offending waves.

Dramatic drops.

Vast freedom. 

Bewildering imagination.

There's no end to this thirst.

I'm not scared of pain,

it makes things interesting.

My eyes sometimes

look into yours,

but no, 

not asking to be touched. 

I'm here

to live this life

like no one but

the woman I have become.

I'm not ashamed to

drown in this sea.