rethinking this business of being an adult.
undermining what came before this part of the book.
A chapter, a page, or a poorly constructed sentence,
tossed with only a few words remaining.
Revoking the small,
redeeming the bold,
waiting impatiently for me to do the work.
unintentionally tripping over the past,
including what may have happened
Finding my place to stand,
I am more than the story that arrived
on my doorstep,
without my permission, or a place to sit.
I am a mess, but damn it, a beautiful mess
in a shimmering universe of
cultivating myself through life worth living,
with words, not whispers.
Words and photo by Kim Tackett, Wicker Park, Chicago.