I tried... I failed... I'm out of practice...
How is it I have no stories to tell?
A Moment Of...
There is a space between words. A breath. A moment of silence that holds the truth of my thoughts. That if there was a way to be there beside you and hold your hand, I'd comfort you.
There is a space between breaths. A moment of silence when you know that nothing between us has changed regardless of how it feels when the walls in our cleverly guarded conversations crumble with the force of familiarity.
I cannot help wanting to ease your pain. I cannot help remembering the pain you caused. I cannot help wanting to open the door. I cannot help knowing I have to keep it closed.
There is a space between breaths. A moment of silence when you know that nothing between us has changed regardless of how it feels when the walls in our cleverly guarded conversations crumble with the force of familiarity.
I cannot help wanting to ease your pain. I cannot help remembering the pain you caused. I cannot help wanting to open the door. I cannot help knowing I have to keep it closed.
A Sunday Morning Rain
I love a slow Sunday morning. Love listening to the sound of traffic lazily rolling by. Love being under my blanket on the couch still in my pajamas with a book in my hands and music softly enveloping the room.
I love being calm. The sense of fulfillment it brings to simply absorb the quiet and enjoy the smallest moment of my day. The moment before everything else of everything else is allowed in to distract me.
Peace is not overrated. Feeling welcome in your own home is the simplest of all joys to claim. Learn to be happy where you are even when happiness seems as hopeless as winter giving way to spring.
The Beauty of Being Found
There are nights when I could spend forever looking for the perfect song to play. Sometimes to capture a feeling, sometimes to chase the blues away, sometimes to bring myself to tears on purpose.
And I get so deep into the sound that I don't even realize my eyes have been closed for hours, and the darkness I thought I was existing in erupts into a brilliant pool of light reminding me, I am here... I am here.
It's like I have to constantly lose myself to find myself. Much like a gardener with a spade digging a hole to plant a bulb to watch it bloom in Spring. I am a repeating repeater. Circling back to check to see the where of where I've been and the someplace I've still miles yet to go, so busy with this finding of me and who I am.
Unearthing.
Uncovering.
Digging deeper just to know I've got it right.
And I get so deep into the sound that I don't even realize my eyes have been closed for hours, and the darkness I thought I was existing in erupts into a brilliant pool of light reminding me, I am here... I am here.
It's like I have to constantly lose myself to find myself. Much like a gardener with a spade digging a hole to plant a bulb to watch it bloom in Spring. I am a repeating repeater. Circling back to check to see the where of where I've been and the someplace I've still miles yet to go, so busy with this finding of me and who I am.
Unearthing.
Uncovering.
Digging deeper just to know I've got it right.
