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Once Upon A Time…Part I

Once upon a time there was a fairytale based in truth, from lessons learned, shared with the world in sugarcoated bliss.

Once upon a time the reality of life was too harsh for minds and hearts to hear, so a story was woven like a web, around to painful an event.

Once upon a time the story spread like a childhood game of telephone, each person that repeated it making it shine a little brighter than before.

Once upon a time the lesson meant to be learned in this tale of woe was long forgotten until only those who’d lived it remembered the tale as it was.

Once upon a time the only hearts filled with pain were those that had lived the tragedies glossed over in the fairytales read to the children at night.

For reality is lived by us all, knowingly or not, and some burdens are to difficult to bear without a little sparkle woven in, and if the shimmer came from tears shed late into the night…

Who should know when mornings light fell, upon all who are seemingly happy as can be? With bright smiles and at times dark hearts, we all live in our fairytales to numb the bitter bite of pain.

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Death Became Me

Death became me and I became death in a time gone by. I no longer felt, it was as if I was floating while still experiencing immeasurable pain. Pain that would be the end of me as I knew myself. 

 

I lost myself for a time, years went by. I didn’t know who I was. I only felt the absence. Death was so much more than a body in the ground for me. It was loss and grief yes. But it was also the end of childhood and life as I knew it. 

 

It was loneliness in a room full of people. Abandonment from those closest and fear of commitment as I aged. It was finding a way to grow on my own and making mistakes I wouldn’t have dreamt of making in another time. 

 

It was reaching my breaking point, filled with shame and doubts. No longer lovable or worthy because death had stolen from me what I could not seem to gain back in life. It was the knife under my pillow. 

 

Yes, once in a time gone by, death became me and I became death…until the pain burned through me and I learned to stand again. Until I learned the shame and doubts were not my own. Until I learned that death was not a hated enemy or a treasured friend. 

 

Death simply is. In the way that my living is now. Both have a time and place in our lives. We should not hurry it along. But learn to accept that it will one day come for us all. In the days before we can only stand when we are knocked down and continue loving despite the risks. 

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Life-Terrifyingly Beautiful

Life is terrifying but beautiful. Terrifying because almost every aspect has at least an element of the unknown. And yet beautiful for the very same reason. 

So much chaos inside each person, the only certainties that you have been born and that you will one day die. What happens in between is up to you. 

Some chose the path well travelled to avoid obstacles, but find little happiness. Often finding themselves wishing for something else or a dream they once cherished. 

Others choose the path they must forge on their own. Fighting obstacles at every turn to get what they have so long desired. They are filled with drive even when others scoff at their dreams. 

The first may know happiness but they often feel the sharp sting of regret as time passes. The second often feels regret each time they fall down. But once they attain what they set out for, their happiness knows no bounds. 

I am the first even as I am the second. I traverse the path well worn if only to also follow the path that I choose for myself. I cannot lose sight of my dreams or I will fall prey to the common and mundane days that the world tells me I must suffer for stability and happiness.

The world can steal your dreams as the wind steals smoke from a fire. Yet a fire burns its own path with unrelenting force regardless of what surrounds it or the opinion of others. Be a fire for yourself and surround yourself with matches for the days when you forget how amazing you are.

It is a journey we each must take on our own. Regardless of those we are surrounded by. We must choose our path and learn to be at peace with our choice. Else there will be little contentment or joy in the constant void of what ifs and what might have been. 

If nothing else, no matter the path you choose. Choose peace and contentment for yourself no matter the circumstances you find yourself in. There is no greater pain than living a life on how you are told too instead of the life you are meant too.

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Too Long

 

Face set in stone
So composed you’d never know.
But look at their eyes and you’ll see a different story unfold

One of grief silenced by others needs.
One of pain bleeding into agony.
A silent scream leashed tight.

Until numbness sets in and they began to change. Not so you’d see or even notice until it was to late.

But slowly, over time, they evolved. They remained to those around them strong, steady and sure. But deep, down inside, they were unraveling.

Unraveling for all the feelings left buried and never expressed. For all the lost words and lost care.

So they picked up a pen and started to write. They bled into the paper what could never be right. Each character written from a cut deep inside, a wound that had went unattended for to long a time.

Until the paper turned red and their face crumpled in tears. Wet trails down their cheeks to the paper below as a silent sob escaped. Their fingers turned white from being clenched into fists.

Tomorrow would be a new day and the tears would be gone. But tonight the moon called and the words bled out with the tears held to long.

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized

Break Me-But I’m Already Broken…

Heart in pieces, pounding like a drum, could feel the pulse, see it under her skin if you looked closely enough.

Mind racing, trying to make sense of it all, to put the words together, but having to remind her lungs to breathe in air and exhale.

Break me again her heart cried. Let them break me again, because you can’t fix this part of you that loves to deeply. Not until you’re broken enough to not come back.

She never learns. Let them break you again until there’s nothing left and you can be reborn from the ashes of what they called love.

Her loyalty knows no boundaries. She will give until there is nothing left. Until her heart washes down the drain of her shower along with her hopes and dreams of what could have been.

Break me now her heart cried so that I don’t have to wonder when I will suffer later. When it will all burn and the scars inflicted will never heal.

Her heart whispered back, they cannot break what has already been broken. Your tears have blinded you. Look at the blood on your hands. No amount of needle and thread will repair the damage done here.

The pieces are already gone. The damage in place. They rest in another’s hands, carelessly held or tossed away and you will have to scorch your surface and rebuild your walls. You cannot break what is already shattered.

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The Ruins

She, like a goddess of old, stood by watching as life continued beyond what had already passed. Aging with each passing day, knowing it would not last. 

She remained still like a statue, even when at times she could feel her heart breaking on the inside. The time had not yet come, so she became ever harder. 

There were those that brushed against her marble edges to test how far they might go, others still who lashed out with sharp words and deeds, creating scars within and without. 

The clouds shifted above her, days turned into nights, silver trails of tears tracked down her marble face, hidden beneath the moons soft comfort so those that caught a glimpse would always think it a trick of the eye. 

Her tears dried up and she remained in place, she no longer felt the pain as she had before, she was moving forward but solitary and confined, until the day she felt a soft as feathers stroke against her cheek where her tears once fell. 

She pushed it away, she had to many scars now and while she longed, she did not relish more pain, even the goddesses of old knew when to retreat, but it always came back. 

Each night, words whispered softly in her mind, a stroking, seeking, hand looking for the key to set her free, she fell in love with the voice and the words as it described a future with them together, she grew to long for it. 

She always responded in kind to the voice, sending her thoughts back their way, brushing her soul against theirs gently, she could feel the cracks in the marble grow larger, the vibrations reached her soul as the large wall she had encased herself in crashed around her.

Rising from the ruins she sought the comfort of the one who’d brushed against her, sparkling eyes met hers, as they too rose from their own pile of ruins.

Hearts and souls joined together as their hands and arms held each other, because sometimes the battle was worth the fight for a future free of ruins and scars that no longer bore a phantom pain. 

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Melodies and Words

I love words like air.
I love music like the need to breathe.
Words can express so much and music makes you feel it.

There aren’t enough words to express how I love you and there aren’t enough melodies in the world to make you understand the depth of it.

Even if it were to end the song would continue playing somewhere in some corner of me. It would find its way.

And the words and songs I’d hear from others would be of no use. I’d only remember the way your voice was a melody that filled my soul and made the words pour from my heart.

That is how it is now. You could be beside me and my body would still hum with a silent melody, the words to it flowing across my mind.

Words of love and happiness. At times sadness and despair but the melody remains unchanged. Untarnished by time or events that take place.

Inside my soul is a song that plays its never ending melody created just for you. It fills me up until there is no end or beginning. Only the melody that is you.

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Garden of Thought

Chaos controls the heart,
But order guides the mind.
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The heart embraces what it feels,
The mind rejects what it doesn’t understand.
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The heart is only as free as the mind allows,
But your mind is only as open as your heart can take.
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The two are infinitely intertwined. One cannot function at its best without the other.
And so it is for me with you even when you are not near.
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Everything is clear when I am in your presence. When you take a walk across the garden in my mind. Your feet forging a new path made just for you.
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When you brush your callused fingers against my petals, stirring my thoughts and passions. Plucking the weeds left cluttered by the world and the past.
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Planting new seeds in their place, so that you may continue to hoard the flowers you love best and watching over those that struggle to grow.
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Even when you are far away. I can feel the phantom brush of fingers. Your head as it laid in the grass. You stared up at the thoughts and ideas that created a vivid sky unlike any other.
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I could hear your voice wandering over it all. So I tentatively plucked a few of my flowers that I’d planted just for you. Gathering some seeds. And I took a walk across the bridge.
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I brushed my fingers over the stone and knocked on the door to your garden and asked if I may come in. To share a few flowers that I’d made just for you…
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Tears of the Lost

Their tears filled the earth beneath their knees. Tears shed for so many reasons they’d all but lost track.

Tears of loss, of unrequited love, of pain and suffering, of fear, the anxiety and inability to breathe that came with them all.

They were all but numb from it. They’d cried so many tears in their life, there couldn’t possibly be any left…Not even when tears were needed. When they ached so much it was a physical pain and the tears wouldn’t come.

It was almost as if they had become accustomed to it, until they broke again. The smallest thing would shatter them then. When they longed to feel the numbness again to block out the pain.

But still they watered the earth with their tears. This did not go unnoticed. In response they were given rainbows after the dark storms. Flowers blooming in spring after the most barren of winters. Dewdrops resting on petals that had survived if a little worse for wear.

The earth had a balance to it. There is always darkness and pain. But even the tears and suffering can give birth to new life when least expected. If one remembers to face the darkness for what it is and what it isn’t….

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She is Everything

Some days she was like fire. 

Bold, unapologetic, filled with passion that could scorch you. 

 

Some days she was like a soft rain. 

Quiet, unassuming, ever observant of those around her. 

 

Some days she was like the wind. 

Free spirited, wild, you’d feel her but couldn’t grasp her. 

 

Some days she was like a garden. 

Gentle, fragrant, and so beautiful you wanted to keep her for yourself. 

 

Always she was like the ocean. 

Vast, deep, never ending. Those who couldn’t swim, quickly left her depths to play in the shallows as they were overwhelmed by all that she was. 

 

She was fire, soft rain, wind, a garden and the ocean. She was magnificent and her beauty to grand for words to ever describe. 

 

You’d find yourself hating her even as you loved her and wanted it to never end. She was more then you ever imagined. She is life.