Sunday Secret

My skill as a People Pleaser has always been Ivy League vast and impressive.  My ability to pretzelize and do and pretend and cater to is, if I look at it objectively, a shining wonder.

But what’s more of a wonder is that I recognize Doormat-itis as a degenerative disease now and let me tell you sisters and brothers have I spent HOURS in my own laboratory concocting my vibrant reliable cure—-and what it is, is this:

On the ground, my feet; anchored
In my chest, heart; determined
Regardless of what you expect of me
Regardless of what you perceive as yours
From the minute you smiled widely
And began asking
That was the minute I knew there’d be a space for me out in the open
Without you
Unencumbered and headed for the horizon
Free and still wounded
Raising up my fists like a prize fighter
Cheering for my shiny journey
Chanting for the singular, clear reflection of me

Yours In Nautical Adventures,
Sailor Shut Up

6 Comments on "Sunday Secret"

  1. Hilary says:

    I only want to know why you are not writing a book and aren’t famous and rich, the way you put words together that look like a jumble word game, that can still grab at my heart and hold on the way they do.

  2. PJ says:

    Beautiful post. Exquisite horizon line in that photo. You have skillz, girl.

  3. MidLyfeMama says:

    WHAT HILARY SAID.

    Member in good standing, Cupcake Fan Club and Support Program…

  4. Bossy Betty says:

    Got my fists up in the air in sisterhood! Lovely poem! You go, girl!!

  5. Cupcake Murphy says:

    Thanks for your niceness everyone.

  6. The Zadge says:

    Hilary – she does have a book of poems published! She’s a genius!