Internal
I have internalized so many harmful things.
I drank them in like poison,
and they made me sick.
Capitalism,
patriarchy,
misogyny,
racism,
ableism,
queerphobia,
classism,
xenophobia.
The antidote was made up of
love,
compassion,
empathy,
humility,
vulnerability,
equity,
trust,
community.
There seems to be a shortage,
but you can make your own.
The things inside
are the good things
pepperoni and cheese
in a pepperoni roll
the Tootsie roll
in a Tootsie pop
the molten chocolate
in a lava cake.
The stuff inside of us
is the good stuff, too
soul and spirit
spark of life
the core of our being
filled, flavorful, and diverse
the gooey stuff
that adds to our personalities
the stuff that is down deep
covered by hard shells
(maybe not that hard, that's okay)
to keep it safe
the best of us
My secret place
Not sure if I’m safe to let it out
Maybe one day
I’ll let a little out a little at a time
My husband still loves me
After 43 years
And he knows it all
Maybe I can trust a little more
Maybe
My inner landscape is a mystery
A blank field with some flowers and puffy clouds
and an unseen underbelly of poisonous roots.
I don’t like to hang out here
and try to unearth what’s beneath the surface
when the house finches are building a nest
when the bunnies are nesting in the neighbor’s yard
when the grackles are strutting and mating
when the dogwoods are in bloom.
Leave me alone
and let me exist outside of my head!
Why must I be a human,
and not an oyster mushroom?
The azaleas bloomed this morning
Tentative at first
Sensitive to the growth that bids them,
to open—
Hiding away inside themselves for awhile
Light poured out her warm welcome
The sepal responded
Once protecting the rising bud,
supports the elegant petal now
The childlike parts of ourselves need fierce protection too
Our own internal sepals like
Rest
Compassion
Trust
Boundaries
Curiosity
And so begins the gentle work of
Loving ourselves back to life
Holding ourselves in trust of spring light
Maybe growth is in the waiting & stillness
The un-rush of morning
The caress.
internal MUST stay in,
external MUST stay out.
biggest of all rules on a submarine.
(my first entry was way too gloomy, so I disqualify myself with two entries today, sorry)
Will I listen to the inner voice
that says there is nothing left to achieve in life?
Will I follow that voice out of the shelter
I have built to keep that voice hidden
and safe?
Will the internal meet the external and
walk together holding hands toward a new
creativity and boldness bubbling up from mystery
taking feet and forming hands in me?
Am I done with achieving and ready to live?
Of course I am, I know what is inside and what
is wanting to get out.
And I know that this shelter, this cage I have constructed,
has keys.
took an advertisement for a local jeweler and created a found poem with the words within the ad
aka the internal message i found
(marked out words with a marker until these remained, i don't know how to include a picture but google found poems, they are fun to read)
The only difference
is beginning
the art
copies a naturally growing
conclusion
fire is greatly grown
in time.
inside.
behind hammer and nails,
chains with keyless cypher locks,
miles and miles of duct tape,
denials and blank stares.
yeah.
that's where my juicy shit lives.
It is happy there, I think.
no windows. absolutely no windows.
Reading everyone’s entries has my emotions stirring. I feel meant to experience all of this today. These words, all of them, necessary. Thank you. All of you.
I have so many
internal conversations
with you
but somehow
when I am
I cannot find
the words
to express
the hopes, dreams, fears and needs
I so desperately
want you to understand
it’s an internal debate
what to keep inside
and
what to let out
some things will reside
only in my heart.
other things
when the space is safe
i let out
the debate continues
because i’m still learning
that the lines will forever blur
between internal
and external
and sometimes
letting people know
how i am really doing
allows them
to do the same.
One of the ways to stop internal bleeding
Due to trauma
Is to relieve the pressure through the creation of a hole
(for a brain bleed)
For so long, I had built up pressure
Inside my spirit
Trying to please everyone
Always do the ‘right’ thing
Always follow the rules
That it became unbearable
But through the brave words of a few authors
And a few friends
I began making tiny relief holes
By saying “no” and putting myself first
And to my surprise
My world didn’t collapse in
The pressure subsided
And now after a few inward “surgeries”
I’m the healthiest I’ve been in awhile
Thank you to my “medical team”
Doctors Glennon & Brene & Kaitlin & Rachel
I appreciate you more than you know
My internal world is both a place
of protection and undoing.
A place I drop into when I’m
being asked to shrink
or contort myself.
A place that holds my sensitive
and expansive emotions
when others cannot.
A place that keeps me
connected to my
most authentic self.
And a place of undoing
all the layers of
internalized oppression
and personas that create
separation and harm.
A place of ongoing undoing
to keep discovering Self.
I hold my self in my hands
Watching
self unfold and expand.
I uncover newness of self
that terrify and excite me.
Just who is this image-bearer?
I am getting to know her.
Omg, Kaitlin, that’s exactly how I feel. It’s like you shared the words with me!!!
I’ve been so blessed by these poems and am behind in doing them.
I have internalized so many harmful things.
I drank them in like poison,
and they made me sick.
Capitalism,
patriarchy,
misogyny,
racism,
ableism,
queerphobia,
classism,
xenophobia.
The antidote was made up of
love,
compassion,
empathy,
humility,
vulnerability,
equity,
trust,
community.
There seems to be a shortage,
but you can make your own.
The things inside
are the good things
pepperoni and cheese
in a pepperoni roll
the Tootsie roll
in a Tootsie pop
the molten chocolate
in a lava cake.
The stuff inside of us
is the good stuff, too
soul and spirit
spark of life
the core of our being
filled, flavorful, and diverse
the gooey stuff
that adds to our personalities
the stuff that is down deep
covered by hard shells
(maybe not that hard, that's okay)
to keep it safe
the best of us
Internal
My secret place
Not sure if I’m safe to let it out
Maybe one day
I’ll let a little out a little at a time
My husband still loves me
After 43 years
And he knows it all
Maybe I can trust a little more
Maybe
My inner landscape is a mystery
A blank field with some flowers and puffy clouds
and an unseen underbelly of poisonous roots.
I don’t like to hang out here
and try to unearth what’s beneath the surface
when the house finches are building a nest
when the bunnies are nesting in the neighbor’s yard
when the grackles are strutting and mating
when the dogwoods are in bloom.
Leave me alone
and let me exist outside of my head!
Why must I be a human,
and not an oyster mushroom?
The azaleas bloomed this morning
Tentative at first
Sensitive to the growth that bids them,
to open—
Hiding away inside themselves for awhile
Light poured out her warm welcome
The sepal responded
Once protecting the rising bud,
supports the elegant petal now
The childlike parts of ourselves need fierce protection too
Our own internal sepals like
Rest
Compassion
Trust
Boundaries
Curiosity
And so begins the gentle work of
Loving ourselves back to life
Holding ourselves in trust of spring light
Maybe growth is in the waiting & stillness
The un-rush of morning
The caress.
internal MUST stay in,
external MUST stay out.
biggest of all rules on a submarine.
(my first entry was way too gloomy, so I disqualify myself with two entries today, sorry)
Will I listen to the inner voice
that says there is nothing left to achieve in life?
Will I follow that voice out of the shelter
I have built to keep that voice hidden
and safe?
Will the internal meet the external and
walk together holding hands toward a new
creativity and boldness bubbling up from mystery
taking feet and forming hands in me?
Am I done with achieving and ready to live?
Of course I am, I know what is inside and what
is wanting to get out.
And I know that this shelter, this cage I have constructed,
has keys.
took an advertisement for a local jeweler and created a found poem with the words within the ad
aka the internal message i found
(marked out words with a marker until these remained, i don't know how to include a picture but google found poems, they are fun to read)
The only difference
is beginning
the art
copies a naturally growing
conclusion
fire is greatly grown
in time.
inside.
behind hammer and nails,
chains with keyless cypher locks,
miles and miles of duct tape,
denials and blank stares.
yeah.
that's where my juicy shit lives.
It is happy there, I think.
no windows. absolutely no windows.
Reading everyone’s entries has my emotions stirring. I feel meant to experience all of this today. These words, all of them, necessary. Thank you. All of you.
I have so many
internal conversations
with you
but somehow
when I am
with you
I cannot find
the words
to express
the hopes, dreams, fears and needs
I so desperately
want you to understand
it’s an internal debate
what to keep inside
and
what to let out
some things will reside
only in my heart.
other things
when the space is safe
i let out
the debate continues
because i’m still learning
that the lines will forever blur
between internal
and external
and sometimes
letting people know
how i am really doing
allows them
to do the same.
Internal
One of the ways to stop internal bleeding
Due to trauma
Is to relieve the pressure through the creation of a hole
(for a brain bleed)
For so long, I had built up pressure
Inside my spirit
Trying to please everyone
Always do the ‘right’ thing
Always follow the rules
That it became unbearable
But through the brave words of a few authors
And a few friends
I began making tiny relief holes
By saying “no” and putting myself first
And to my surprise
My world didn’t collapse in
The pressure subsided
And now after a few inward “surgeries”
I’m the healthiest I’ve been in awhile
Thank you to my “medical team”
Doctors Glennon & Brene & Kaitlin & Rachel
I appreciate you more than you know
My internal world is both a place
of protection and undoing.
A place I drop into when I’m
being asked to shrink
or contort myself.
A place that holds my sensitive
and expansive emotions
when others cannot.
A place that keeps me
connected to my
most authentic self.
And a place of undoing
all the layers of
internalized oppression
and personas that create
separation and harm.
A place of ongoing undoing
to keep discovering Self.
I hold my self in my hands
Watching
self unfold and expand.
I uncover newness of self
that terrify and excite me.
Just who is this image-bearer?
I am getting to know her.
Omg, Kaitlin, that’s exactly how I feel. It’s like you shared the words with me!!!
I’ve been so blessed by these poems and am behind in doing them.