She knows all of my skeletons and holds them close to her heart as the bones fuse together and become one with her own.
She knows that when I feel as though I can’t control anything else in my life I begin to clean.
She knows that I question if I’m doing right by my child as my heart is tugged in a different direction than the one I’ve grown comfortable with.
She knows the countless hours I spent wandering the dark streets late at night in search of my brother.
She knows the lump in my throat now every time the phone rings past 8pm.
She knows that I am a caged wild bird, beating my wings against the iron bars, longing to be set free.
She knows how I take my coffee and can judge by the weather if I’ll want it iced or hot.
She knows my fear every time I find a lump or a bump, that my heart races until it halts and I can’t breathe every time I have to go for another ultrasound.
She knows my worry that one day it won’t come back ok, even though they have always mostly been ok and how hard I try not to write that story.
She knows the dreams I’ve fulfilled, the ones I let go of, blowing kisses as they fluttered by and the ones I’ve yet to discover.
She knows the creative fire in my belly that burns fierce and bright.
She knows I want to save the world, to take away everyone’s pain, to shower everyone with love and compassion to the point of exhaustion.
She knows that my heart twinges every time I watch my daughter play outside alone, talking to herself, because I will always hold a little sadness that I couldn’t give her the one gift I wanted to and I worry that she’s lonely. I worry what it will look like for her when both of her parents grow old and she has no siblings to help her.
She knows that I hold all living things at such a high regard and have such a weak spot for furry ones.
She knows that I love her children as I do my own.
She knows I can’t help but let my hips move as my lips sing along.
She knows that I will never believe that my teeth are white enough.
She knows that I lose my mind when the dirty dishes are stacked together with food on them.
She knows the hidden truth behind my smile.
She knows the ache of my heart as it wishes for one last cup of coffee with my Mama.
She knows the flutter of my heart and the feeling of arriving home as the plane touches down.
She knows few things make me happier than 90 degrees, sunshine on my face and a gentle breeze blowing my hair widly as I stare out across the ocean.
She knows how I love the soft burn as the tequila passes my lips and trickles down my throat.
She knows how much I love the burn of my food...spicier please.
She knows I danced around a fire drumming in a past life and how much I long to do the same in this one.
She knows I long for wild magical things.
I carry so much love and gratitude for all of the amazing women in my life who hold space for all that I am.