I’m too — a Poem

I’m too loud. I’m too obnoxious. I’m too boisterous. Too noisy. Too much personality. I’m too socially awkward. I’m too restrained. Too withdrawn. Too shy. Too quiet. I’m too old. I’m too young. I’m too friendly, too blunt. Too open, too closed. Too vulnerable, too weak. Too aggressive, too passive. I back down too easily.…

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I was someone.

Photo via Unsplash by Edwin Andrade So, I’m in Chicago. “It’s nice to meet you,” I say to the fourth, the fifth, the tenth stranger. “I’m Bridget.” It’s great. It’s WordCamp. It’s a community. But they’re not my community. They don’t know me. They don’t know I was married for twenty-three years. They don’t know I…

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Sometimes I Sit in the Dark

Sometimes, I sit in the dark. Sometimes, I curl up in his chair. Sideways. I close my eyes and search for the memory. I search for a time when I felt safe. I cry. The blanket on his chair is wet with my tears. I rock myself. I talk to him. I apologize. I’m sorry…

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Will you remember me?

At a certain age we look inward. We take an inventory. We audit our lives. Does my student loan matter? Did I impact anyone’s life in my one year of teaching? What do I have to show for the last thirty years of my working life, let alone personal? People come and go in our…

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