The Need For Touch

The need to be acknowledged—

Like a child,

The necessity for touch never diminishes.

Craving intimate affection

Like a fly on shit;

We cannot help ourselves.

BE WITH ME!

Their language screams.

Palms face up.

I hold them,

In the roundness of my heart,

With the firmness of my eyes.

LISTEN TO ME!

Their language urges.

I’m here, I whisper

To their sensibility.

I listen with my mouth shut.

The longing to be recognized

Is overwhelming

At times.

Even those who

Are fully trained and

Qualified cannot do justice

To this business of listening.

Attention is left to those of us

Who have unoccupied points

Between our hearts and God.

And what then, when you sit there

Across from me,

And

“I love you” slips out?

Because I know it is not love.

It is gratitude for being witnessed.

It is thank you for being listened to.

It is recognition of Need

And my ability to hold space for our

Experience of intimacy to show up in.            

I sit very still

Listening. 

GROWING PAINS from July 29th

Where do I even start?

This process of growing up

it’s growing pains!

My legs ache just like they did when I was 12

and I would wake up screaming

because my muscles hurt so damn bad.

Just choose.

Make a commitment.

Stop fucking around and just make a decision.

This is about the time where I call my mom

and start crying

because my whole life is

Under pressure

3:15am my eyes open

the light on the clock blinks

back at me

I’m awake and there’s nothing

I can do about it.

This is about the time where I call my mom and ask her to tell me what to do with my life, my love, and aching in my heart that just won’t go away.

This is not being an adult, Shinay.

GROW UP!

Part of growing up is making choices.

Just choose a place to be for a year.

No, this is crazy, I’m afraid of commitment.

Part of growing up is taking responsibility for the bad days.

Part of growing up is getting off the couch, turning down the TV and calling up your mom.

It comes in the middle of the night

at 3:15am

as the lights from the computer

blink at my under the desk

as I lay awake on the fold-out couch bed.

It comes, between the lines on the highway

as I drive 70mph watching my odometer

turn to: 191717

It comes in the way my lover looks at me

over his morning coffee

and offers to make me an egg

and toast and

It comes in the newness of dawn

and the roughness of the stones

under my bare feet

as we wade into the frigid river

under the bridge

It comes as pressure, squeezing tight,

with his gentle kiss and his arms

around mine

as we whisper to each other

not knowing when or where or how

It comes in a phone call, an email,

in a side-long glance, a conversation

with a friend as she takes a shower