Brialee Turner

I want to believe that
It is safe
To say “I don’t know”
And to look another
Being in the eyes
Without having
An answer or the
Bandaid to slow
The bleeding.

The polar opposites
Of sin and righteousness
Squirm into my
Consciousness and the
Black and white
Television set gifted
From my family has too much
Certain static.

I turn it off.

I let the noise go.

And I silence
(Somehow) all of the
Different genres
In my mind.

Then I let myself step
Into the milky and soft
Yet sometimes delightfully
Messy/scary/hopeful
Hues of ambiguity.

I want to be the
Wrinkled woman who says
“I don’t know” with grace
And softness.