The Woman with Two Spirits

Inside me there are two spirits

and they are constantly at war.

One who belongs to the woman that lives in the brick corner house.

White picket fence bordering the corners, giving life to the rose bushes.

A solid structure to grow alongside. She has beautiful blonde hair

That rests gently above her shoulders. The Morning breeze

She speaks softly , and asks for permission to feel.

She wears long flowy dresses, hair up in an uninformed bun and

Keeps herself presentable for the unexpected guests.

In times of hardship and worry she internalizes her trauma.

Keeping sweet little secrets, Whispering thanks and wishes of tomorrowland.

Her days are passed with children and laughter. Keeping the

Happiness in her pocket, ready to ignite it. Flame in hand.

The other woman lives on the outside of town, in a factory made home.

Her hair is braided with health, strength and wisdom

passed down from her ancestors.Flowing and skimming the mid of her back.

Whisking in the wind like the cattail surrounding the tree outside her window.

Sounds of rez dogs fighting in the distance keep her calm at night.

She shows power in her voice, and silences those in her path.

She wears beaded earrings that she made herself, a black shirt

And completed by her ribbon skirt resting at her ankles.

When they see each other on the street, they make no sound.

There are no hello’s or how do you do’s.

No casserole made to be shared together after a loved one's passing.

No long conversations on the phone sharing theories after a first date.

Inside me there are two spirits

and they are constantly at war.

And the one who is winning is slowly killing the other.