Missin' Me

I am all about self definition. Knowing who you are and being comfortable with who you are. But as human beings we have a tendency to lose sight of ourselves and what we should be. I will admit that I have done this plenty of times in my life and what I have done is learn to forgive myself and move on. This is a piece about those emotions that I felt during those times. Let me know what you think.....

MISSIN' ME
by LADY EMERALD

I miss you so
How could I have let you go?
When you were here
those around saw cheer
grins from ear to ear
no fears, no tears.

You were who you were
supposed to be
and without you
I am a different me.
Timid, depressed
smiles are less and less.

I need you back
so I can be whole.
I want to be me again
Tell me where to find
you
Me
The person I used to be.

Because since that day I
you went away
things have fallen
fallen down
fallen apart.

I want to have you back
I need to get you back
Me back
that part of me, you see
I lost.
Will you ever return?

Miscarriage by Jane Duran from Staying Alive: Unreal Poems for Unreal Times

There are some things in life that are inexplicable, hard to deal with and impact our human experiences greatly. The best way I found to deal with the things that impact us to the point of disruption is to view them through another set of eyes, to feel them with another heart and to speak of them as if they were to be part of someones else reality. Only then, when you learn to remove yourself from what ails you by learning that these things do not only happen to just YOU, but to everyone, can you appreciate and see what good comes from those negatives.

This is a poem takes one of the more heartbreaking things for a woman to ever have to deal with and goes in another direction other than the negative connotations that we are used to and helps us to feel with more than just our emotions. It helps us to feel with our entire being; mind, body and soul.

Miscarriage

The Womb refuse,
backed up,
its particles of silk
wasted, perish.
Breathless-
the cloudy silo,
the yolk sea.

The ceremony
of lifting
and enclosing
the womb refused.
The ceremony of no-child
followed.

On either side
its ostrich neck
its camel neck
wavered,
swallowed the high
midnight.

The womb held back.
It had an eye
for sand,
spread its cool
oranges and reds
on dry land,

and bright
and fierce
as a lair,
the womb bear-hugged
its dead,
and let go.