Meet Christina Strigas/I Know it’s Not Me

Depending on the light of the day

streaming in from my window,

I am insecure or full of doubt.

If it is Fall, right around the time

of my birthday, September nineteenth,

I come alive. I smell hope in the grass.

I feel the love in the universe; how the

leaves alone fill up my emptiness,

the sunsets turn everything gold,

the walks with my dog complete me.

Sometimes, my dog is the only one

who knows what I need. He reads me

better than any man ever could.

How silly, you think. Why dont you ever

talk to me the way you talk to the dog?

I keep it locked up in my fancy notebooks,

my indie music, my art acquisitions,

my loyal lover. Nobody knows it’s me,

I fool everyone with dark eye-shadow

and midnight poetry rants. I can even fool

myself about the seasons and how they

strum out my life. I know it’s not me.

It’s trouble that follows me in your name.

I am worrying about all the time on my

hands. I am worrying about the stains

on my shirt that do not come off.

I am worrying that my children are

leaving me so soon. I am not ready

to let go of anyone. I have to breathe

deep and open my arms wide to

lesbians, gays, acrobats, lovers,

husbands, wives, and put up the chains

to mean girls, and men that want to

eat up my inspiration with charm.

I know it’s all you.

I finally get it.

It took me forty-eight years

but I figured it out.

It is never too late

to love yourself.


Christina Strigas blogs at You can’t break up with a soul mate

5 Comments Add yours

  1. Ward Clever says:

    48 isn’t so late to learn something… I know I have.
    Great post!

    Like

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