A Second Chance

Sadness - such profound sadness.

For the first time since this mess of a year began, I felt deeply.

Nothing made sense - nothing felt right.

Everything felt so...purposeless.

And then it happened - a miracle - the truth.

I was lonely - utterly hopeless in my hurt - until I saw the truth.

In my loneliness, I deepened friendships.

I needed those around me so desperately.

In our fear and sorrow, my family came together as it never had before.

We spoke more honestly, more deeply, and more lovingly into one another's lives.

Our family became a team.

I found what I had been looking and longing for - deep and meaningful connection.

And then - the most beautiful thing - there was no longer a need for fear.

So what was I left with?

I was left with substance.

I was left with truth.

My joy could not be distracted by flighty friendships or shallow relationships.

Everything was genuine - everyone was true.

She is not the only one who got a second chance - we all did.

I can see clearly now

You broke my heart, and you don't deserve to know it.

I gave you trust, love, smiles, gifts, sacrifices, and time.

I thought we had all the time in the world.

All the time in the world to feel free in love, laughter, and joy.

And then you turned on me.

I became a thing - a thing to be perfected and to be boasted of.

Not a person who enriched your life.

They saw it coming - all of them.

I didn't want them to, but you made it so easy.

I should have known the day that your eyes no longer met mine unless I was crying.

Crying because of something you made me feel or think.

We could have had the world.

We could have had adventure, and we could have learned so much.

I would have let you have everything.

I wanted to let you have everything.

But that was not enough.

Well, good luck to you.

Good luck finding the woman who will stand in the mirror and pick herself apart.

Who will fold when you ask her to.

And when you do...

I hope you realize what you lost in the labyrinth of your own selfishness.

You lost a lifetime of growth.

You lost a lifetime of friendship.

You lost the trust of someone incredible.

You lost me.

Wholly and completely.

You lost me.

And I am free.

Healing Melodies

I heard a song.

It spoke of brokenness - confusion and sadness.

But even more, it spoke of rebirth.

And so I'll dance -

Not because I am healed, but because I have hope.

Hope that I am not alone.

Hope that I will grow.

And I will dance, because I breathe the hope of a better tomorrow.

Breathing

I heard your voice last night.

It felt like I could breathe again.

But it was only a dream.

So again, I hold my breath.

You Knew Me

You beat me with your indifference,

Bludgeoned me with your silence,

And broke me when you said "enough."

We were years in the making.

You knew me completely.

You could read me better than I would like to admit.

We were not close - we were intertwined.

People say that the memories will stop to flood every second of my day soon enough.

What they don't know is that you were a part of every piece of my life for nearly a decade.

You knew every one of my quirks.

You loved them at some point.

And then what?

I fought for you with every ounce of energy that I had.

I stepped out of my comfortable world of peace and contentment.

I wanted us to be the best that we could - wanted nothing to go unsaid.

You sacrificed so much to be with me

And then as soon as I could, I did the same.

And then, for the first time, you looked at me with your cold stare of indifference.

One moment around you used to melt away my daily stresses.

But after that stare - that first cold gaze, each moment with you was riddled with insecurity.

It became a constant struggle.

Did the fight weed out your heart?

Somewhere along the way, I lost it.

And here I am.

Broken.

Not because we are apart.

But because we have been apart for longer than I would like to admit.

Broken.

Because I fought with every ounce of my being - no matter how difficult

And you let the fight exhaust you.

What did I do that made it so easy for you to walk away?

We had so much behind us - so much leverage to move forward

But you just stepped to the side - off of the tracks- as though it was nothing.

You were not only someone I had loved.

You were the person I saw myself loving forever - the person I was willing to fight for forever.

But that was not enough.

You threw in the towel as though it was nothing.

With a nod, you ended us.

And that was that.

Lost

You broke my heart every time you looked at me.

I remember the days as though they were in slow motion.

The days when my thoughts on life would make you think.

Or when my sentiments would make you smile.

But now - my sentiments are excessive, my passions idealistic and dull.

The fire in my heart no longer inspires you.

You looked around and saw the world.

A world that I knew we were too good for.

But to fit was paramount.

You took one look at the world, and I lost you.

Each day after, you looked at me with disdainful eyes.

I was an obstacle - a chaperone on your field trip.

I was not enough - or maybe I was too much.

You picked me apart - each insignificant part of me anyways.

Where you once saw my soul, now all that stood before you was a mannequin.

You used to tell me that I was the most beautiful when I was natural.

No longer.

You used to tell me that I had a beautiful heart.

No longer.

Where you once challenged me to grow as a person, you now challenge me to change my clothes.

You became everything I ran from.

I ran from that world and into your arms - only to be lost in it all once again.

You re-opened old wounds, old insecurities, old feelings.

I was healed, and you had been a part of that.

And then you ripped the scab and let the blood flow all over again.

Somewhere along the way, you lost yourself.

And I lost my best friend.

Acting

You were trapped.

Trapped inside the circumstances suffocating the person I know you are.

You sing, you dance, you smile, you laugh,

Yet you remain muted.

Muted by yourself and by the world.

If you would just be you, you would be perfect.

You would be my perfect match.

You were my perfect match.

But you let the world change your face.

You fit in oh so well.

I wonder now if you fit in so well with the world whether you became a part of it?

Did your front become your soul?

Did the facade become a reality?

Did the mask become your skin?

I miss the person who inspired me to greatness - the one who showed me who I was.

You let me be.

No expectations, only faith.

And then the world showed you that I was not enough.

My old soul and whirring mind is a hindrance.

Well let me tell you something:

The world is wrong.

You showed me who I was, and I will not go back.

The act of normalcy, of contentedness, of sanity - whatever it may be- exhausts my mind and soul.

I see the potential in myself, in the world, and in you.

I will not settle.

While we could have been "fine" with a shell of a life,

I will not settle.

You should not settle.

Oh God, I pray that you don't settle.

You pushed me, you cheered me on, and yes, you led me.

But you weren't along for the ride.

So where are you now?

I pray that you don't settle.

Each moment, once captivating, holds emptiness.

A taste, once exciting yet familiar, is ordinary and foreign.

I listen to our favorite song, and it feels as though I have never heard it before.

Or maybe I have heard it a thousand times, but its meaning has slipped away.

The stories of each day that I grasped so tightly to until I could relay each detail to you, so many miles away, are forgotten.

The reds have dulled to grays.

What have you done to me?

Racing in the Rain

The streets are painted with red and green and yellow.

Rain falls in sheets, not droplets.

The world is made of glass.

My feet are sore from walking, working, dancing,

But all I want to do is run.

Shoes are tossed into the mud, one by one.

And there is only me.

And the world is made of glass.

So I run.

Without a second thought or worry, I run.

No thoughts of who I am supposed to be, but only of who I am.

I run.

Drenched and cold, I am free.

I am free of concern, free of poise, but full of dignity and delight.

This is me.

I have been told that I will be the one that he let go.

But he is the one who let me leave.

I know who I am.

I am a lover.

I am a fighter.

I see beauty in both the unusual and the ordinary.

I see beauty in myself.

I am a learner.

I am a master of thought.

I am still growing.

I am a homebody.

I crave adventure.

I live my dreams.

I am a work in progress.

Most of all, I am who I was made to be.

Each day I am me.

And each day, that is enough.

Terrifying and Beautiful

Cold crisp light bathes a concrete structure with its comfortless embrace.

A door opens and dust dances through the stale air of the simple colorless corridor.

The scent of chalk and turpentine clings to the concrete floor and walls.

She leaves a trail in the coat of nameless substances resting on the table as she runs her dry cracked fingers along its surface.

Canvas pulled carefully over its frame lies waiting in the corner.

Waiting to become something - anything.

This world is gray and stagnant.

This world is dirty, unforgiving, and all-consuming.

Bodies brush against each other as they wander the vast and indistinguishable hallway.

And that is all they are - bodies.

In this world they belong to no one but themselves.

They serve no one but their own mind.

Imaginations rule this world.

Imaginations transform this world.

It is both terrifying and beautiful.

A Story Yet Untold

Pavement streams by

Her hair dances wildly in the wind.

With jaw unclenched and clothes unkept

The world is hers for the taking.

Music battles the violent breeze for a louder voice.

Uncomplicated,

Undetermined,

and Uncommon.

She is the picture of potential.

A story unread.

A story yet untold.

Her eyes press through the glaring sunlight

As lines on the pavement stretch before.

Where does she go?

It matters not to where she travels

But only that she does.

It matters not if she arrives

But only that she tries.

For she is on the road to beautiful.

And she is beautiful.

I believe

What do I believe?

I believe that every step I take is a blessing.

I believe that pain often times does result in pleasure.

I believe that love takes many forms.

I believe that God has a one of a kind love for us.

I believe that love is reflected in nature.

I believe that love is reflected in language.

I believe that love is reflected in mathematics.

I believe that love is reflected in art.

Most of all, I believe that love is reflected in science.

I believe that science is proof of my Creator rather than proof of His absence.

I believe that our President, no matter who he is or what party he associates with will do a better job than I ever could.

I believe that intelligence is relative.

I believe that no one has to find their path - they are already on it.

I believe that women and men are meant to be loved differently.

I believe that people who have to fight for their love know the meaning of the word more than anyone else.

I believe that people have the right to love.

I believe that government belongs in the banks and on the battlefield, not in my or anyone else's relationship.

I believe that people have the right to live.

I believe that the government has the duty to protect people from their own destruction.

I believe that to take someone else's life.

I believe that many people care more about animals than they do about other people.

I believe that sometimes I am that person.

I believe that God sings over me.

I believe that He sees my suffering and wants to hold me.

I believe that He romances me through the magnitude and subtlety of his design.

I believe that this world was destined to be a beautiful and perfect place.

I believe that I aided in its destruction.

I believe that fear is the most damaging emotion.

The Glory in the Ordinary

A day is just a day.

A night is just a night.

The sun rises and falls and makes way for the clutter of evening lights.

A breath is just a breath.

A step is just a step.

And life is mandated to be nothing more than that.

But what happens when the ordinary becomes endangered?

What is life when the sun no longer rises?

What is life when the moon and the stars no longer cast strange shadows on the wall?

The days are numbered.

What happens when a breath becomes an anthem - a goal in and of itself?

What happens when a step is worthy of a celebration?

What is this life? Is it life at all?

Is it beautiful, or is it terrible?

Each thing, each action, each thought that once served as the means is now the end.

So what of life?

Ah, this is it.

Oh, the glory in the ordinary.

This day is as each before it should have been.

Tomorrow

Tomorrow.

It is a day that I did not wish to come, yet I admired it.

It always stood far in the distance.

It is a day that once carried with it so many expectations.

The expectations of eyes closed shut.

The expectations of a heart unbroken.

The expectations of a spirit unshaken.

My mind did not know the end of any story.

Tomorrow is a day that I wish could fade into never.

Not because the expectations of an unknowing soul will go unsatisfied.

But because it is a day that marks the first of many lasts.

It is the first of many days that will fluster and twist and unbalance my ever-grounded feet.

It is the first of many lasts.

It is the first of many tears.

It is the first of many days that bring humanity to my doorstep.

A story draws to an end.

A card - a simple card - carries the meaning of life in its very fibers.

Each cent carries with it the weight of timeless questions and the significance of a thousand inquiries from the most learned minds and wisest of spirits.

A smudge of ink may end us all.

Words themselves do not have the vocabulary to describe the significance of tomorrow.

It is a void.

A void of understanding.

A void of wanting to know.

A void of wanting to feel.

This story draws to an end.

Maybe it is only the beginning.

The beginning of a new understanding.

Will tomorrow ever be what it once was?

Was tomorrow always going to become this?

It will be the most human of human experiences.

As real and as painful as they come.

My story draws to an end.

Eyes creased in the folds of faces pinched with glee turn to eyes widened with wonder and fear of unattainable understanding.

Lips once poised in perfectly crafted smiles turn to lips resting on jaws clinched with anticipation.

Anticipation of what? It has yet to make itself known.

The final word. It is not my own.

Freedom is lost.

The freedom to feel.

For it is too strong.

If I feel - I will feel fear.

If I feel - I will feel anger.

If I feel - I might feel joy.

And joy might be the most terrible of them all.

Tomorrow is a selfish beast.

And the world will never know.

The end.