the poet knows it ...

I am Sacred
I neglect me.
I don’t look in the mirror or see me when I do.
I don’t know the sound of my own voice
amidst the chaos warring in my head.
I don’t acknowledge my Sacredness.
I don’t protect and nurture it.
I misplaced the fact that I am more
than a vessel used to perform and produce.

I disregard the quiet
that feeds me,
the solitude that grounds and rejuvenates me,
the joys that stimulate and fuel me.
I’ve misplaced the fact the world’s demands
will not make time for me,
nor will the world miss a rotation if I make time
…though it may gripe,
for the world does not see or value the Sacred in me.

I forget who me is.
I forget to like and adore her
(too awestruck by others, too busy immolating them),
despite what anyone else may say or see.
For they do not know her or her journey.
They don’t make or break her.
They have come and gone and will continue to.
Their liking and approval does not add to or diminish her.
I’ve misplaced the fact that I am Sacred.

Bind it to my forehead,
engrave it on my heart…
I am Sacred.

_Mishelle