Yesterday's Promise

She held all the pieces.

For years and years, she held them all

And she promised that they somehow fit together.

At first, with fear’s reluctance

I gave them stingily.

But faith grew—chiseled and molded with well-intentioned cultivation

Until I couldn’t wait to hand her every scrap.

I gave her all the pieces

Trusting they were safe.

And they were… for a while.

I didn’t know that,

In the end,

The jumbled bits would scatter on the wind.

I snatch the fragments from the air

Lost jigsaw pieces dressed in my emotions

Complicated

Delicate

Subtle

Elusive

I study the painful gibberish

Longing to fit them into something real

Something whole

But seeing only how each shard reflects

The dark place where she will never be again.

So You Call Yourself a Feminist?

Recently, I saw a video which asked people to post their views on feminism.

 I thought about this a great deal. 

To see my video response, click on the image below.