it was a arduous journey,
but with calloused hands,
I continued the climb
at the top,
I looked around in amazement –
everything was bright frosted stars and distances
the thing is,
I understood in that moment that there is no top –
there are only distances and scenery along the way,
and the ability to be awake enough to travel and see it all
so I closed my eyes and let myself fall
-image via Pinterest
life inevitably serves us challenging circumstances,
and sometimes we allow ourselves to be defined by what happens to us
we cope in very different ways –
some of us restlessly run from the shadows of the past,
while others cling on to things that anchor them to safety
but what we all find, I think,
is that time can grind anything into a kind of new normalcy
-image via Pinterest
there are times when life requires that you fight,
that you wake ready for battle,
ready to flip-flop and rearrange for perspective,
to reach to uncharted depths for motivation,
to forage for ribbons of hope
it’s a war of sorts, this fight,
one where there are no winners –
there’s only the return home
so, you find a way to fight,
and fight
and one day, you wake up,
ready for the fight,
and you realize that, somehow,
you’re stronger,
softer,
certain about the one thing that matters most amidst the continual uncertainty
you wake up,
and you realize you’ve altered old patterns,
and that even when you were exhausted,
you showed up for yourself,
and you hadn’t even noticed
you realize that, once again,
you’ve made it home to yourself,
like you have so many times before
-image via Tumblr
the stress and heartache,
one thing after another in a combination of knock-out punches,
had nearly broken them,
yet here they were
it was a familiar place,
this raw place of survival,
one they’d been to before in their years together –
it is inevitable if you spend enough time building a life together
it was a place of choice;
a place where you can choose to hide or choose to be,
a place of past, present, and future at once,
where, if you’re ready, you offer up pieces of yourself with abandon,
in both fear and freedom,
where you grasp for humility and strength,
where, when you do,
you break free to someplace other,
a place only achieved when you’ve dug and excavated,
when you’ve both buried that which is no longer useful and unearthed something new,
something more
yet, that newness has roots that have burrowed so deeply in fertile soil,
it’s destined to reach for the sun
and weather the most viscous storms
she knew love is a conscious choice,
that it is cultivated and it’s hard work –
she never expected white horses,
nor did she need them,
but she could never have predicted the depth of the heartache and what it required of her soul
what she did know was that she was grateful to be here with him,
heart aching,
soul-searching,
burying and unearthing,
laying roots;
cultivating
reaching for the sun
-image via Pinterest
it was the end of her days,
and when she looked back,
there was only ash;
she’d left a path of it,
like the breadcrumbs of her life
but there was no sadness in that –
all her life,
her heart had burned for what it loved
-image via Pinterest
‘Oh, here she comes’
I know what you say about me behind closed doors,
what you whisper in smoke-filled rooms,
bronze rivers dancing in crystal fractions,
creeded ego hot on supercilious-stained cheeks,
stinging the tip of your liquor-slicked tongue
‘watch out boy, she’ll chew you up’
and you’re all man, right? –
that’s what you tell yourself,
what you want me to perceive
you want me to want to devour you;
you want me to believe I’m doing the devouring,
that I’m the one who’s gonna make you pay,
gonna break your ‘fragile’ heart
‘she’s a maneater’
but you’re a master at the game,
and you think I’m just another pawn with a confident exterior,
shielding my heart from fear
‘she’s watching and waiting’
I am, there’s no denying it –
I’m no fear-filled dummy, boy,
I can play this game, too,
if I must
but let’s be clear –
I was never here to play the game,
to break your timorous heart,
to find easy prey and pounce
I just want more,
and I’m gonna get it
so, if that makes me a maneater –
chomp,
chomp
–image via Pinterest, original source unknown; written in response to Mindlovemisery’s Music Challenge
silence is the absence of sound,
but it’s never quiet; it’s always loud
for, in the silence, all is heard,
no stone is ever left unturned
and all paths lead to where you’ve erred;
in the silence, the soul is bared
-inspired by Man is Man, by Emerson C. Burkhart
what of dust, of fortune telling,
of lightning coming too soon?
what will I become?, I wondered,
whispering to the moon
she told me I already know,
I know from where I came;
the rest is right in front of me,
try dusting off my name
-image found on Pinterest; shared as part of Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Tale Weaver prompt, dust
don’t be angry;
I haven’t become someone else
in front of your eyes
the problem is,
you don’t want this to be me –
you have always had some idea of me
that doesn’t exist,
some set of expectations I can’t possibly
live up to
you have constructed some ideal based
on something inside you,
and you have seen what you have
wanted to see –
you have refused to see my truth
but it’s been so very exhausting,
and not very fair to have to pretend
all the time
you don’t know me,
but I’ve been right here,
all along
here I am –
take it or leave it
-image via Pinterest, original source unknown
when life gives you lemons,
make lemonade,
they say
but what if life gave you
a lemon tree,
and the lemons just keep coming?
what if, try as you might
to take in stride each bearing of the fruit,
and you make and make and make
lemonfuckingade,
but you just get tired?
you tire not only of the lemons,
but of the knowing more lemons
are surely going to grow,
of the knowing that you’re just going to have to keep on making
lemonade?
I suppose you should accept
that this is your tree,
and it’s yours to harvest whatever
may come from it,
whatever blooms from the manner
in which you fertilize it
but sometimes,
it just sprouts unexpectedly,
and you just want to throw lemons
look out
