All in Time

There was a time
when I thought love happened
like in the movies.
I don’t believe in love like that
anymore.

There was a time
when all the little girls at school
got boyfriends
who brought them flowers
on Valentine’s Day
But I don’t believe in Valentine’s Day
anymore.

There was a time
I experienced something
but it wasn’t love.
Not even close.

There was a time
a long time
I looked for love
in every smile
in every glance
I don’t look for love
anymore.

If there was a time
when I knew love
and love knew me…
I didn’t remember that time
anymore.

But there was a time
a kind time
where love found me
and followed me
into the depths
of great loneliness
and the love was great
but the world was not
and the love was taken
and did not breathe
anymore.

Then there was a time
a short time
where love found me
and followed me
into the depths
of great despair
and the love was great
but I was not
and I knew this love
needed more.

There was a time
a long time
I yearned for love
because it was not known
because I’d kept it
from myself
I refuse to do that
anymore.

Maybe one time
I’ll come to find
the kind of love
they show in the movies
they write in the songs
the encompassing
consuming
propelling
sweeping
legendary
love.
But I won’t wait for a thing like that
anymore.

For there were times
when love was born
with tiny hands
and tiny feet
when I least expected it
and when I most expected it
and I was not lonely
anymore.

But after some time
a long time
I felt the void
of my old nemesis
the stranger
the foreigner
for the void was great
and the bridge was not.
I knew my soul
needed more.

At this time
love is still a stranger
ever-elusive
not-to-be-trusted
and there are times
when I don’t want it
anymore.

So until the time
when both my little boys at home
become boyfriends
who bring girls flowers
on Valentine’s Day
I will show them love
every day
and forever,
and more.

-Kirsten Young

The Woman I Am

I have my father’s head, the buffalo head. Hats never fit. Disproportionate to my body.

I have my mother’s thick hair, enough for ten people. Hairclips never fit. So heavy it gives me headaches.

I have a wide set of shoulders, like a football player. Blouses never fit. Not very feminine.

I have really long arms, monkey arms. Sleeves never fit. Wrists always exposed.

I have large hands, as big as a man. Gloves never fit. Handshakes with women feel awkward.

I have an extra long torso, too long for your height. Shirts never fit. Legs too short to match.

I have very muscular legs, like a body builder. Jeans never fit. Thighs too thick for the waist.

I have big feet, like flippers. Women’s shoes rarely fit. I have to buy men’s.

Yes, my skull is big. It must be because I have a large brain full of thoughts and cares. This brain helps me to understand so many things and imagine even more.

Yes, I have a ton of hair. It must be because of all the stress I’ve had and the hairs I’ve shed, for after all of that I’m still not bald. This hair has kept me warm when I’ve given my coat to the person who needed it more.

Yes, my shoulders are extra wide. It must be because I’ve been given so many responsibilities I needed the extra space to support the weight. These shoulders have carried people over obstacles who could not keep going on their own.

Yes, I have long arms. It must be because I needed the extra length to reach higher, and to have room to give more hugs. These arms have embraced the most beautiful babies and lifted up so many.

Yes, my hands are large. It must be because I was meant to create so many things. These hands are skilled, nimble, strong and capable, and have produced the most beautiful works.

Yes, my torso is almost freakishly long. It must be because the greatest loves of my life were to grow there and they needed extra leg room. This torso has helped me to stand tall and defend what mattered most.

Yes, I have muscular legs. It must be because I needed them to be strong so I could get back up again, and again. These legs have helped me to make long journeys up steep hills.

Yes, my feet are massive. It must be because I needed to be able to trudge through deep muck and still maintain my balance. These feet have helped me to keep from falling over and to travel for miles without wearing out.

I’ve always wished I could feel like I fit, but I’m so thankful for my head. I’m so thankful for my hair. I’m so thankful for my shoulders, and my arms, and my hands, torso, legs, and feet. I love them, and I wouldn’t trade them for anything.

I love my body because it fits the woman I’ve become.

The Woman I Am.

081

The Hurricane

It’s all hitting at once.

Storm crashing, like tides against the beach

I’m okay, I will be okay, I have to be okay.

Everything I want, barely outside my reach

Everything I had, slipped through my fingers like sand.

Leaning on a rock, rushing toward a hard place.

Casting a net, the catch is a double deuce.

Buried to the neck amidst the sandcastles

I can, I will, I am! I was… I think.

Hurricane swept, swallowed me whole.

Staring blankly at the placid dangerous calm

Bracing for the second act.

Wind blowing, flattening shelters.

Whistling tunes of destruction and riot

Giving cause to rebuild, renew, re-live.

Rework. Rewind. Rethink.

It’s haunted in the sunshine.

Ready for exorcism.

-Kirsten Young