This is written in response to San Diego Momma’s PrompTuesday NO. 140, Where I am:
I am a flower of harmony who starts wars on occasion.
I am a cup of hot coffee with extra cream.
I am a snow drift and a hot beach.
I am wind in my hair and wheels on the road.
I am a Chinese girl on the inside.
I am a mountain view in my mind’s eye.
I am a sleeping bag on the forest floor, a pillow made of whatever’s available.
I am aiming for the center line, the middle way, bouncing off the left and right.
I am a loud voice and a cheap shot to protect a vulnerable core.
I am a nurturer of all things and a mourner of the smallest of deaths.
I am bright red wrapped in black.
I am a reader of maps, a plotter of paths.
I am an untethered mind attached to an anchor of a body.
I am a mother of two daughters.
I am a daughter who wants to be mothered.
I am brave because I lack the courage to be weak.
I am an imperfect partner; I hoard love.
I am convinced I have art inside of me, buried under all the excuses.
I am convinced I have a heart inside of me, buried under all the ice.
I am an unfinished painting.