Acceptance Poem

As I start new journal
in the wide-ruled notebook
I bought today I am...

Accepting that I write sloppy and BIG
Accepting that I stay up WAY
too late, drinking and smoking
and am exhausted all the time
because of it

Accepting this body, its
boredom, and longings, and bliss
and that it always stays
AT LEAST 10 lbs above
where it's supposed to be
healthy BMI Range, all that shit

Accepting how the body
regularly fails
to be perfect

Accepting the lines
on my face are
permanent and
not going away
my forehead like
my father's - all
those deep furrows -
and so I kind of love it

Accepting and loving
the lines because I have
EARNED every little
last one of them

Accepting that all women
even those of us who
call ourselves Feminists
will always want to look

younger than their Age

Accepting RAGE

Accepting that my
father has died
for so long - in July
it will be 18 years now

He always wanted me
to be a Feminist and
rule the world but how
he left us so suddenly

I will always be
the "apple of his eye"
and he will always be
53 years young to me

I will always be
struggling to learn
how to live and to
Accept