woman in turquoise

*this poem was birthed during a writing workshop from a Sherman Alexie prompt.

I don't know how much of myself would have been left when I got to work.
the weight was breaking me into breadcrumbs too few to get me back home
one ear bud in
one ear bud out
I saw her sitting to my right enough to catch the tune she was humming
feet on solid ground over Badu's Orange Moon
her aura felt like safe. she
sends me strength in messages that life is supposed to break you into
breadcrumbs. it's supposed to be
blind man cause the spirit will lead but all I see
is this beautiful woman in turquoise singing my heart's melody
and I can't stop staring
Whitney, the little girl in me
wants to lay my head in her lap and guide her fingers through my locs.
she's beauty in a way I've only seen in past lives
with full lips and bright auras
but I sit across from her on the train cause I don't wanna be rude
or weird.
she messages me that goddess will send me angels and messages when I am
ready to leave. I left a breadcrumb at
Mockingbird station. I cried white marks at White Rock
I watched my angel continue on at LBJ and thanked the gods
for her blessings
followed breadcrumbs to work and sometimes I see the same angel
at the station. I haven't broken into sugar since then
I want to tell her how she saved me that day
how her silent singing spoke so much peace into my being that
I floated through a Thursday like cloud
seven. I want to thank her but I figure
she'd have no idea what I'm talking about