I hope you love yourself

                so you can love life too.

                I hope you learn to laugh, 

                even in the darkness of your own thoughts. 

                Please don’t be afraid

                when you have a taste 

                of bittersweet vulnerability.

                I hope you walk confidently, 

                that your fears won’t outweigh 

                all the wonderful you can be.

                I hope you speak clearly 

                & your words are crafted from compassion

                (which your mom & dad are full of).

                I hope you grow up knowing 

                that your heartbeat

                is connected to a long chain of love, 

                years in the making.

                In the end I’d like to believe

                it’s all the love you’ve ever given or received,

                embracing & supporting you, 

                every moment of beauty permeating your soul,

                every feeling & memory, every affinity

                suspended into infinity. 

                If I’m not here for you physically, 

                my love always will be.

                love,

                auntie Laura 

                                                                       

                                                                

                                       My dad gave me a sense of humor & his nose,

                                my mom gave her chin & optimism.

                                I’m somewhere between 

                                his realism & her mysticism.

                                I have their defense mechanisms,

                                mannerisms, 

                                & probably more isms. 

                                When I was shy & small,

                                I inherited both of their shells

                                but shy becomes awkward as an adult

                                so I’m a party turtle now,

                                fun loving & social 

                                but wanting to disappear 
                                into my own home. 

                                I poke my head out 

                                & check the weather,

                                hoping to improve myself

                                                                       

                                because I am the love
                                I give & take,     
                                animated by

                                the energy I create,

                                passed on to whoever I make,

                                whoever let’s me into 

                                their space or experience. 

                                .Laura Curren.

                       

                       The pharmacist said it was like a forest fire

                       & whichever medication I choose 

                       won't bring back the burnt trees 

                       but it will fight about 30-60% of the flames.

                       I can't get my trees back?

                       It’s a strange thing to be told my body 

                       is working against me. 

                       It’s a strange thought to wonder if I gave this to myself 

                       from doubt & worry & stress,

                                             self sabotaging or blaming the wrong things
                       or too many beauty products or microwaved meals,
                       who knows.

                       I think in some ways I’ve always avoided myself

                       so this was a rude physical reminder 

                       that my time gets eaten by those who don’t offer
                       transparency to me,     

                       That wrestling my self doubt is actually won 
                       by asking why it’s there.

                                     

                        On my brother’s birth certificate 
                        my mom wrote, “human” under race. 

                        I know skin color is an adjective 

                        that comes with baggage 

                        & it falls on a spectrum of stereotypes. 

                        These labels haunt my idea of peace 

                        when we are nothing left but energy.

                        Imagine if you looked at your soul 

                        outside of your body, 

                        what color would it be? 

                        What type of emotions, efforts, 

                        & dreams would you see? 

                        Would you be a tornado of anger 

                        & unresolved issues? Would you be 

                        a sweeping hand of comfort? 

                        Would you be passion 

                        unfurling its petals? 

                        My mom knew that people 

                        liked their categories 

                        but she understood, above all else,

                        if this earth is called mother,

                        she can die of a broken heart. 

                        .Laura Curren.

                            It sounded rehearsed

                            like canned remorse, 

                            like so many times before.

                            Your feelings have changed,

                            your eyes aren’t the same; 

                            they look away & through me,

                            as if you knew me.

                            This is best described as 

                            a polite kick in the ribs

                            but what hurt me even more

                            is that I found myself 

                            saying your words

                            to someone else.

                            .Laura Curren. 

   










                                   Sometimes it's sneaky,

                                   it doesn’t come out of the shadows

                                   or slump on the floor,

                                   it comes as a dull ache for something more.

                                   

                                   Maybe I already have the answers,

                                   but not the courage to carry them through.

                                   It can come slowly too,

                                   not always breathing heavy sighs or sobbing

                                   but in overthinking quietly;

                                   one small rain drop of thought

                                   turns into an ocean

                                   & my heart is beating frantically, 

                                   while I'm looking for shore.

                                   But there’s this other part of me,

                                   waving from an island

                                   screaming, but laughing, 

                                   telling other me to come back,

                                   everything’s good right here. 

                                   .Laura Curren. 

                                   Why Are We Here?

M.                        Sometimes I think that people 

       were put on this earth to be an example 

   of every type of person you can be,

                          black & white,

                          & so many shades of gray.

               

                          There’s bad romance novelists, 

                          serial killers, nuns, clowns, 

             people I just scared by listing those things, 

             there’s people who won’t bother to read this, 

                    people who breathe passion into their life by words, 

                      biased people, narrow minded, open, a little too open, 

                everything & every swear word you’ve ever heard,                 every language

  every horrifying 

& beautiful 

case of life;

                     some so extreme, they seem to be from different worlds

          & some so painfully or wonderfully similar, 

                 almost every instance, ever so slightly different. 

                         Each code of DNA is a story

             & some people think their’s is very important,

                                       some feel insignificant,

                          like unheard tears in the ocean.

                         What will you contribute?

 How would your energy be described? 

                         Did you light up some eyes?

           Were you humbled or jaded by your experience?

                        The simple answer is that there’s no simple answer at all.

   .Laura Curren.

                  Your smile & laugh was  

                  a burning ball of gas

                  keeping me warm & alive

                  with brighter eyes 

                  But the closer I got to you 

                  the more you warned me

                  that you’re too much to touch 

                  & if I really knew 

                  what it felt to feel you 

                  I’d burn from the rush

                      .Laura Curren.

All I wanted 

was a reassuring breath 

across my shoulders while I slept. 

But I hadn’t become my own person yet.

Wanting someone else to show me who I am 

is like me telling you who I am; 

my words aren’t real 

unless you feel them. 

I can keep asking for somebody.

I can keep stepping in shallow 

until I meet my own depths. 

This won’t change 

if I sit in the same place & wait. 

This won't change until I offer what I ask for.

.Laura Curren.