For Beau Sia’s poem prompts from #NaPoWriMo2024, posted 4.1.24. #poemswithbeau Prompt 2: meet me. Still poking at the format; completed for V’s birthday. Cross posted to IG.

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meet at my best,
no
meet me at my worst.
wait,
that sounds like an insult, but
it is how I learned to love
from my family.
a terrible example,
but it’s true
I think,
that we are searching for
a loosening, a relaxation of clenched fist
when we love;
and in my family
what came down was
hidden,
empty spaces left
and filled in with
and and .
and in private, the house shook with anger
the way a haunted house moans with the wind.
How do I outrun that kind of legacy?
How do I unclench my teeth and not
catch you in the splash of blood?
How about this,
say,
meet me outside, after I’ve snuck past my
childhood monsters, and crept out the front door
and slapped my feet against the concrete.
Or, meet me outside, after I’ve snuck back home,
and made this house a palace of
water and light and rainbows,
an exhale and not a held breath never let go.
I’m headed somewhere, can you meet me out front?
I wanna show you the landscape of my childhood,
a vista of hills and tiny houses, where I inhale
at last meet me, not my best self or worst self, but
my most tender self, most easily loved self, ready
to take her breath at last.