So one my beautiful and talented ships (line sisters for anyone who isn't from the midwest) posted this poem on her blog and I love it because it's so real, open and vulnerable. I thought I would share it with those of you who maybe wouldn't stop by her page...but feel free to check her out erry now and then! http://rhdschlr.blogspot.com/

naked: stream of consciousness
nappy hair covers my forehead which
gets awfully greasy for no reason at all and
i've been fighting the battle for flawless skin since
the summer of fourth grade when i got chicken pox from my best friend quiana and
everytime i eat a piece of dark chocolate pudding cake
i think about how long its been since i hit the elliptical
with my knocked knees
and i swallow harder and faster,
make the indulgence all the more sweet
learning not to attack myself since
i've long since stopped counting the number
of men i've slept with
and remember the ones i've loved,
with my whole spirit not just body parts
and the ones that loved me back, calling me
best friend, niece, sister, cousin, the daughter i am grateful for
remembering to call my mother for advice that never made sense when
i watched her struggle through abuse,
yet now carefully examine her trajectory
from widow to matriarchal diva
share the wisdom with my sisters
without having to prove how smart i am
to disguise how dumb i've been
laugh at myself
become the perfect extroverted introvert
and no one has ever really seen me boil from anger
because i was told to be stronger than those who misuse me
and when i was afflicted the screams bellowed inside
so that no one has ever really seen me cry
except that one time when i offered you a penetrated soul
oh, and maybe that one other time when you didn't see me balled up in the right corner of the couch...so now
when i throw my hands up in Solomon
drowning my face in tears of desperation
i feel the pulling of my heart toward God
allowing His peace to sing to me,
His favor to promote me
His word to strengthen me and i scream out louder
because somehow i still feel like used and abandoned broken body parts
numbed with spiritual schizophrenia
moving through miracles that i can see but can't hold
i can smell but cant taste
i can taste but cant swallow
and i settle for that fat piece of dark chocolate pudding cake
questioning the mirror which always contradicts how beautiful you say i am
because i can not live in your mirror
with my forehead which is quite greasy and my skin which is not flawless
and my mood swings are scorpion and i muster a smile and speak a promise, that i can be transformed
by the renewing of my mind... but today, i'm tired.