I don’t have the words

I’ve been writing a ton but haven’t been editing or sharing much of it. I joke with Ricky that I feel super inspired, like too inspired, and that I need to spend time in a motel in the middle of nowhere to edit the pieces I’ve started (holler if you have a spot 👀).

With last year’s wild life adventures (some amazing–like my Barcelona residency + some well, traumatic) I moved through the months without intentional time carved to develop or edit my creative works. I made a commitment to extend grace to myself this year, which includes my writing.

Even still, there are some memories I know that I’ll never have the words for. I know you have them too–the ones you feel really deeply in your bones, whether they give you comfort or make you quake. The ones you try to share with a friend, but they come out all fumble-y.

This poem is inspired by the moments I want to have written to paper, but know I’ll never quite have the words for.

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I don’t have the words

My words don’t hold the 
elegance they once did; 
I’m now a mess of raw, 
unpolished experiences. 
But some things I could never 
articulate by any arrangement 
of words; things like:

the sheer excitement, 
and nervousness of the 
unknown, held in the eyes of 
an incarcerated woman who 
received her date of release
after years of not seeing
the outside world

the sweet sound of waves folding 
atop themselves during rush hour
when rubber tires tread against 
the rough highway road

the independence of walking 
Spanish streets alone at night

the moment I realized that 
I’m struggling with veiled pride
and the simultaneous gratitude
and disappointment that emerged

the fragile heart fighting
for hope as she comes to 
terms with her forever home 
on earth being one behind 
barbed wire fences 

the generous gift, absolute
joy, and shifting challenges
of marriage 

There’s a special sentiment 
in some things never having
quite the right words 
to describe them.