Unfinished and Free: Two Poems
Jessica Wilde on the selves we leave behind and the gratitude that grows in their place
This is where I leave you,
with my unfinished pieces, ones that I haven’t tended to in quite some time. The various versions of me half painted/ half peeking through cloth, strewn and askew in the guest bedroom. These self portraits are staring me down, daring me to bring them out, touch up the paint and play… But I can’t. And I won’t. I walk around the room and gently touch all the ones I chose not to become. I linger on some a little longer than others. I hold up my latest painting and admire it. You were the closest I’ve ever come to being done, but the colors weren’t quite vibrant enough and the lines were still a little rough.
Gratitude
Gratitude lives in my feet/ my hands/ and swells in my chest/ I dance in my kitchen to Pink Pony Club/ my baby laughs/ I shake my hips and sing at the top of my lungs/ my ligaments are loose/ I didn’t know it was possible to feel so relaxed/ my joints have so much room to move/ my chest expands/ my heart cracks/ wide open/ my eldest smiles her real smile/ pure joy/ magic in the making/ I wish I could freeze this moment/ I’m so thankful that we left/ gratitude glows golden/ and/ it feels like freedom
Jessica Wilde is an American Immigrant living in Aotearoa New Zealand. She spends her days teaching primary school and spending time with her family. She is currently working on her debut poetry collection titled The Not So American Dream. She craves reading poetry on rainy days, women in leadership roles, and an endless supply of coffee.
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