My short skirt

My short skirt is not an invitation

A provocation

An indication

That I want it

Or give it

Or that I hook.

My short skirt is not begging for it

It doesn't want you to rip it off me

Or pull it down.

My short skirt is not a reason to rape me

Even though it has been a reason before

It will not hold up in court.

My short skirt, believe it or not

Has nothing to do with you!

My short skirt is about the power

Of my lower calves

A cool autumn breeze blowing between my thighs,

It's about everything I see, or feel or live to be inside.

My short skirt is my defiance

I will not let you make me afraid!

This is who I am

Before you made me cover it up

Or tone it down. 

Get used to it.

My short skirt is happiness

I can feel myself on the ground

I am here

I am hot.

My short skirt is a liberation flag

In the women's army

I declare these streets

Any streets

My vaginas country.

My short skirt does not mean that I'm stupid

Or undecided

Or a malleable little girl.

My short skirt is a turquoise blue ocean

With swimming colored fish

A music festival 

A stary night

A bird calling

A train arriving in a foreign town

My short skirt is a full spin

A full breath

A tango dip

But mainly, my short skirt

And everything underneath it is mine

Mine

Mine

Learning to let go

It took me three days to finally go in and look. I didn't want to see the emptiness, the reality that my oldest child chose to leave and go live with his dad. My heart is breaking. 

I've known since his was a toddler that this day would come. I thought i was prepared. But there's really no way to prepare when your child breaks your heart. 

I know I need to let go and as a parent this is just my first lesson in that. I know that it's not about me, that it's about him finding who his his, learning his path in this life and becoming a man. 

I can only be here to support him, love him and today..... Miss him.