speak, scream, shout!

There are moments when your hear your heart beat and you know it is time.

And your brain may fight and push and argue

but you know. 

You know that you have words that have been locked in your soul,

waiting to fly out

and it is time to set them free.

In mid-air they dazzle and shine, so much that you may fear them. 

Don't.  Your power is your truth, your power is your love,

your power is in these words that need to be said.

 

Everyone wants to know they are not alone,

everyone wants to know there is a person who is looking out for them

no matter what.  No matter what.

So speak those words, tell the truths, cry out to the wind, the sky, the air,

the people that you love. 

The people that matter.

They are waiting-

this is your time.

Sorry for the terribly long breaks between posts right now my lovely readers, I'll try to be better! Thank you always for the sweet and wonderful comments.  Things are insanely busy right now so I haven't had much time to be on here but I am always thinking of all of you and when days seem especially long I actually go back and read the lovely comments on posts, they make things so much better.  You all are so fabulous :)

i'm shining like fireworks

  

Do you see me when you look to the sky, look to the stars?

Because each shining light reminds me of you,

of the brightness in your eyes, in the glimmer that I saw.

You can lose me now, you can leave me now,

you can pretend we've been over since the day we begun.

But I won't forget, and neither will the stars.

If you could just stop whispering those lies,

beautiful twists of smoke, curling in the air,

intoxicating me. 

If you could just stop acting as though there is an ocean between us,

acting as though there is something we cannot get over.

I want to be your friend.

I don't need to be anything more.

I'm scared to touch you because I don't want you to think I mean it. 

I'm scared to be near you because I don't want to lose you entirely,

I don't want to lose you forever.

I drew a black line in pastel across a white canvas. 

You took your hand and smeared it as you interlocked our fingers,

 as you looked at me,

taking me back to when it was our hearts interlocked.

I ran away fast and I ran away far,

but I can't forget you.

But maybe it's not about forgetting.

It's about remembering,

remembering the feeling, the hope, the knowledge that yes,

I can be loved.

move along, move on

It was an odd sort of nostalgia, an odd sort of longing, an odd sort of empty. It was haunting in it's familiarity, the way your stomach twists when you see a stranger that resembles a long lost friend. After you pass them, you miss the stranger. You miss the friend, but you miss the stranger more, because you didn't ruin things with them. You didn't lose them. You still have hope.

That's all that friendship is really, hope, she thought. Hope that this person won't let you down like the last. Hope that this person will love you unconditionally. Hope that this person will answer their phone at three in the morning if you call. Hope that this person will keep their promises, will hold your hand, will carry you when you need it.

credit: Lauren Treece

She struggled with reconcilling hope and physical loss, as the list of all those moving out into the world flashed on the inside of her eyelids. She had always lived by the motto that if it was meant to be, it will be. She knew not all friends would last forever, and the ones who did were the ones who mattered. And people had moved before. And she was right, the ones she still knew, years later,  were the ones who mattered.

But it was frightening thinking about losing anybody, because everybody mattered to her right now. These people were her ground, her earth, her support and her connection to something more solid than the fleeting oxygen, those who entered her life only to leave. That departure was easy, it was expected. But the earth moving beneath her feet, that was different.

"Attachment is suffering", she had read the other day, before vowing to live a more continual life, reach a more fluid existence. She knew she could not lose attachment entirely, because attachment made life meaningful, but she recognized it as an after the fact attitute- moving forward after recognizing the attachment had become toxic.