Feet

She had left her feet behind
Abandoned... At a door step, in a playground, the scary basement, in her room

She was 4, or 8 maybe 14 as she planned her escape, perhaps 28 when her heart broke or was it at 36?

The pieces of her were snatched by the mother____ oh the mother
By the forceful words of sacred books
her father, the men
the wishes of the masses

Split from herself
by the dusty rules of women of long ago
the demands of twisted rules
made up lines drawn in sand seperating her people

She didn't know who to be___how to be ___where to be

She was pulled between her broken pieces strewn over time and the mesmerizing call of her numbing vices, the comfort of not feeling, the familiar pretend

Yet it was dimming...

Her salvation, the parts she had played so well to cover up...were failing, betraying her, refusing her their intoxication

There was no where to hide

Had to go back to her basement and the doorway, the abandoned room to find her pieces like the beads of Persephone and put herself back together

It was time...

She had become a little brave
And her feet were asking for her

For my clients, mothers, grandmothers and little girls