On the outside

I look tame.
Baking and knitting
gardening and raising a child that loves poetry.
Making a house into a home.
But inside—
my heart is raging.
I bleed purple, blue and orange
on pages and lines
I ache to the marrow
with love and longing
my ribs crack
with every heartbeat
that is not allowed space
to let go.
There is too much inside of me.
It feels as if a hurricane
spins inside my chest
My heart a thundercloud
crackling with electricity and tears.
Sometimes I worry that if I open my mouth
the things that come out will
not be words but entire persons,
swirling madly in jewel tones
screaming languages that have not yet been invented.
My skin is the only thing
keeping me from flying to pieces.

What do I do with all of this?
What am I supposed to do?
I am half lost and wandering
half afraid of letting my
storm-people out, worried they
might be beyond what little control I have.
I dream in color.
Vivid, saturated, Frida Kahlo color.
Tones so rich I can almost taste them.
The ache in my chest doesn’t ever go away.
Not even in my dreams.
That’s how I know it’s still me.
Do not try to tame this.
I will leave you behind
without a second thought.
A love that shies away from the storm
is no love for me.
Be brave of heart, my love.
Be tender of heart, my darling.
The only one at risk right here is me.
And I know how to ride the storm.
It looks like this:
baking bread and poems,
ripe tomatoes and scarves to keep you warm.
The thunder of my heart,
hurricane of my chest,
love of my life.

Relephant read:

Reclaiming Our Wild Hearts.

Author: Katie Frank

Editor: Ashleigh Hitchcock

Photo: flickr