where the writers are
In My Closet
in my closet

While looking through this closet


my window to myself


I see all the phases of me

Hanging patiently 

for me to visit


Its the place I remember


 who I am


And all the me's that mattered most


 to myself


I sit with

Last years sandals that got wet on the beaches in Accra

Two seasons ago dresses that Salsa'd all night 

Fifteen year ago jeans that I once could fit comfortably

There's even thirty year ago hair

But I'm not exactly sure where thats been

Or who I was when I wore it



The enigma that is me 

can be so incompletely free


I hover over memories 


Sort through bleach stained t-shirts dusty from road trips 

Ripped jeans that rode in cars lost for hours 

And long forgotten pencil skirts that languish on hangers

Reminding me of the diets, dates and promises

I made to myself 

to be a better 

whatever I thought I already wasn't


I hang out next to yesterday's jogging pants 

that actually hug my ass quite nice

Lay beneath the fuzz covered housecoat I've worn forever

I sit on the floor

not too far from that shirt with the questionable green spit up stain

I swear will come out

That is draped neatly next to the unopened box of baby pictures I forgot during my winter scrapbooking moment

Neither of those worked out 

like the neon yellow leotard I flung in the corner after a 5am yoga class


 commitment was always a problem with those particular phases of myself


My closet is 




Over run

With spaces

That expose

The many places I have been in my life


I laugh at the 6 inch stilettos I knocked 

Accidentally on purpose out of that formerly rude supermodels hand during the afternoon madness sale back in 93

They went perfectly with my red and black bustier and the "I can almost sit in them" leather pants, faux mohawk hairdo, pearl necklaces and door knockers from LL's outdoor concert in the Bronx

I was determined to be a fashion icon


On a budget of course


That old bear brown coat that kept me warm 

during my alma mater's losing football season... all three of them

its pushed way in the corner and is now a cozy for my broken tennis racket

Never used roller blades

Golf clubs my ex brought as a Valentine's present

Boxing gloves after that summer stalking incident

And the tae kwan do uniform I wore so my daughter wouldn't be the only girl in her dojo


Saturdays were always my best days back then


The stories my closet sighs when I arrive 

are the ones I look for most often


The make up streaks that never came out

Of my auntie's antique lace and pearl wedding dress

Still makes me giggle about how full my life has been


I used to be

Dainty but daring

Wild and shy 

Living in every moment 

Filling myself with all the joys I wanted to remember


I havent been so many of these me in a minute


All the grown up day dresses, linen pant suits and Sunday hats 

wait to come back in


And fashion


They gave up on me after the last baby was born


my recent affair with loaded blue corn nachos

cherry garcia with whipped cream

Online women's studies classes

And those damned late night erotic romance novels

Have challenged some of my social etiquette thought patterns


I love looking through this window


I find so much time has stood still 

while I rush by


Throwing pieces of my self onto hangers and shelves

Picking up memories I don't often have a chance to think about

I could sit here for hours and not wish I hadn't found one thing I used to be


This closet is all about me


From the size 10 shoes to those 24 pajama jeans

The cluttered and twisted jewelry my daughter thinks I dont remember

The nose rings I really wish I could forget


The culture club cassette tapes tangle with the hidden jumbo boxes of after school snacks for attention

My everyday granny panties mix with my "honey, let's go out" Vicky secrets


My past and my present mingle here


Constantly rewinding me through my personal wormhole through time


I live here


Or at least I did

Every now and then I still do

returning to see the many changes I have lived


When I forget

Or maybe just want to remember

My awesomeness 

Every now and again


I sit here 

In the closet


What I sometimes forget