I am the House of Poetry

I am the house of poetry

You built me
by any name you ever called me;
Pretty C#$%
Ungrateful demonic
Hateful unlovable
You; the other.

And any name
I ever saw inside myself;
Myself; inferior
Me, the I, Connie
Green; with envy
Lydia, my Rae of sun
Me; dirty-fat!
Smell; I came to hate
Dumb perfectionist
Mistrusting my own

My own reality of blue.

I shrink at the sound of a belt
I startle at the touch of my skin

Yes, I am the house that poetry built
You built me.

In gratitude I say Amen

Night in the House of Poetry

Collaged Heart

paint much love, always,
Connie Karleta Sales
a.k.a. This Crooked Little Flower

I am the House of Poetry, 30" x 22" x 1 1/2", mixed media, Ready to Hang, ©CKS
I am the House of Poetry, 30″ x 22″ x 1 1/2″, graphite, ink, charcoal, paper, wood, Ready to Hang, ©CKS

Contact: Crooked Little Flower Studios
for availability