A Slow Rearranging

The turbulence of these waves
could drown you out at sea;
swimming in saltwater with open wounds is bound to make you scream

This heart,
these hands,
this brain,
they're heavy

This body is tired of fighting a current and never drowning.

So stay strong
even when you feel all alone

Keep moving on;
the monsters that once had their claws in your back -
they're gone

No one's going to help you,
even if they'd want to.
There are things that, they will never know

So baby girl keep changing
Keep rearranging
all the thoughts that, you think you know

Just go slow
Just go slow

Author Statement

This poem was created while I was crying and trying to make something meaningful on my guitar. The words became a slow and melancholy song, through muffles of hopelessness, sobbing and exhaustion. I was deep in my battle of post-traumatic stress and this night was one of the darkest and most alone moments that I’ve experienced yet. I was landing in the reality that no one would be able to fully be able to understand my experience because I was the only one that experienced it; I was the only one there other than my perpetrator. In my mind, at the time, even the most well intentioned-folks (which there were few) wouldn’t be able to “save” me; this was very scary because I felt so alone, and I wanted, desperately, to be seen and helped and saved by anybody. It was a terrifying time to me.

Looking back now, this poem represents one of the first times that I tapped into my own strength and resilience. It felt like I was making a decision out of hopelessness and betrayal, it was deeply deeply painful… and, though I didn’t know it yet, it also was the turning point for me. I was choosing to believe in something that I didn’t know to be real or true or possible – healing, my own inner-strength, the possibility of a “good” life…

It’s taken years and there have been triggers, painful flashbacks, deep and difficult transformation, but ultimately, all great learnings towards healing and post-traumatic growth. I am proudly in a healthy relationship now, with a partner who hears me and respects me; someone who I can communicate my boundaries with and who advocates for me even when I’m not there. I have learned how to create safety for myself and have been working hard to learn how to let go of unhelpful coping mechanisms (such as people pleasing and co-dependency), in order to show up authentically in all my relationships, aligned in my truth and in touch with myself and my body’s boundaries. The journey has been hard; I’ve lost a lot of people along the way, and battled up and down with mental illness. But I am so proud of myself for how far I’ve come, for who I am now, and for the young woman who wrote this poem in her darkest times, unknowing it would become her prayer to get her through to the end <3

Beyond is Your Nature

Beloved friend, fellow survivor,
I thought I heard you say,
“My innocence is forever lost.”
Look again, look deeply, I say.

Beyond existence and non-existence.
Beyond birth and beyond death,
Thus is your nature.
Look again, look deeply, I say.

Taking refuge in Great Compassion,
Transform pain into joy,
Awaken gladness in your heart.
Look again, look deeply, I say.

Close your eyes and look inward,
Into the depths of consciousness.
There you find a sweet child.
Say to her, “Darling, I am here for you.”

Open you heart to this child,
Allow great compassion to arise,
Offer the incense of tranquility.
Say to her, “Darling, I see your suffering.”

Say to her with tenderness,
“Sweet child, little me,
A cloud never dies.
Innocence is your nature.”

The insight is strong,
Be brave and be bold.
And thus the wisdom lotus blossoms,
In the thick, stagnant mud.

Darling, I am here for you.
Beloved, I see you.
Fellow survivor, nothing is lost.
We are blessed innocence.

Dismantling Shame

Stigma will no longer sew my lips shut, it cannot.

Stigma will no longer shame me into a shell, it cannot.

Stigma is the toxin that runs through society, but no longer through me. It cannot.

Stigma is the faceless fear that tried to force me into inaction. But now, it cannot.

Stigma helped my perpetrator get away with his crime, but now, it cannot.

Stigma helped complicit institutions cover up abuse, but now, it cannot.

Stigma is being disrupted and dismantled, and it will no longer prevent the truth.

Stigma is being unmasked and uncovered, and it will no longer trap any youth.

Stigma is a relic of the past, showing the greatest contrast.

For now, the darkness cannot live here, only truth and light.

a simple act / stargazing

the same way
i count my thoughts
in shapes
& constellations
strung together
one too many times.

Author Statement

I have a continuous passion for narrative storytelling using mixed media to showcase my creative talents. I’m naturally inclined towards writing in various forms; poetry, memoir, short fiction, documentaries, and journaling. Find my portfolio here – https:// rileygstein.format.com/e8618ba8d9-content.

Like an alchemist, Goldstein transforms writing and design into creative communication that inspires her viewers. Goldstein publishes work connecting nature to lineage as she paints pictures with her words.

cup of cozy

my love for you tastes like
arriving home from a blizzard,
your defrosted lips
fireplace hands
stoking our coals into embers

Author Statement

I have a continuous passion for narrative storytelling using mixed media to showcase my creative talents. I’m naturally inclined towards writing in various forms; poetry, memoir, short fiction, documentaries, and journaling. Find my portfolio here – https:// rileygstein.format.com/e8618ba8d9-content.

Like an alchemist, Goldstein transforms writing and design into creative communication that inspires her viewers. Goldstein publishes work connecting nature to lineage as she paints pictures with her words.

Whimsy

We change, turn over covers and apple strudels.
We wake, fresh out the oven.
We grow meeting seasons with new energy.

Be a tree.
We do not know why we are here.

Neither do trees.

Purpose lives, breathes, shakes our cores, spirits, and psyches.

I was blessed with a body, arms that wrap around my community, hands that are warm
and I whistle wind songs, chiming tunes, writing rhythms extending towards you.

I am resilient. I am unique. I am unconventional. I am authentic.

Trees cannot be replicated as replacement carries new weight, manufacturing wisdom
in my palms, reaching up, grounding myself in moss and stone and cement.

No matter where I go, I leave a mark.

One human thumbprint
is worth more
Than a thousand.

Author Statement

I have a continuous passion for narrative storytelling using mixed media to showcase my creative talents. I’m naturally inclined towards writing in various forms; poetry, memoir, short fiction, documentaries, and journaling. Find my portfolio here – https:// rileygstein.format.com/e8618ba8d9-content.

Like an alchemist, Goldstein transforms writing and design into creative communication that inspires her viewers. Goldstein publishes work connecting nature to lineage as she paints pictures with her words.

How to Forgive

Learn
To be
Forgiving

An open cloud
Welcoming a rainbow
Still rising
After every storm

Through lighting
Quaking earth
Fear and failure
Stay in the sky

Come nightfall
Spread thin
Straying into morning
Accept the sun

Glide ahead
Through strikes
Not hiding
Only releasing

A cloud
Always changing
Never ceasing
Its softness on dark days

Learn
To be
Forgiving

Author Statement

I have a continuous passion for narrative storytelling using mixed media to showcase my creative talents. I’m naturally inclined towards writing in various forms; poetry, memoir, short fiction, documentaries, and journaling. Find my portfolio here – https:// rileygstein.format.com/e8618ba8d9-content.

Like an alchemist, Goldstein transforms writing and design into creative communication that inspires her viewers. Goldstein publishes work connecting nature to lineage as she paints pictures with her words.

Dear Sunset,

We drift together
2 beings coasting along the horizon of our thoughts.
I feel you caress my lips and bathe my body in sparkles.
Ocean whispers lullaby’s to skies on blue afternoons
when I’m swimming on the shoreline in Paradise, Cabbage, Goodman’s Beach.
My feet sink beneath the comfort of your reach, comforting, gritty, and rough and soft
in spaces I do not expect.
I am happy to see you,
even when you taste like oranges and salt.
I am one being melting into the universe.
I accept you, sunset, sunrise,

meditation among grandmother moon’s loving gentle storm.
Like her, I am shy and when moon beams or sparkles meet my eyes
I show a new aspect of me.
I am a sliver one day, fully blossoming the next.
Human beings are as mystical as weatherscapes.

Author Statement

I have a continuous passion for narrative storytelling using mixed media to showcase my creative talents. I’m naturally inclined towards writing in various forms; poetry, memoir, short fiction, documentaries, and journaling. Find my portfolio here – https://rileygstein.format.com/e8618ba8d9-content.

Like an alchemist, Goldstein transforms writing and design into creative communication that inspires her viewers. Goldstein publishes work connecting nature to lineage as she paints pictures with her words.

Dear Gaia,

I adore catching glimpses of you.
I appreciate your illusions, miracles, and consequences. Everything about you
intrigues me.

Author Statement

I have a continuous passion for narrative storytelling using mixed media to showcase my creative talents. I’m naturally inclined towards writing in various forms; poetry, memoir, short fiction, documentaries, and journaling. Find my portfolio here – https://rileygstein.format.com/e8618ba8d9-content.

Like an alchemist, Goldstein transforms writing and design into creative
communication that inspires her viewers. Goldstein publishes work connecting nature
to lineage as she paints pictures with her words.

The Gatehouse