I live my life through the words I write
Fight me.
I need you to fight me.
Bulldoze down my walls,
tell me how I’m wrong and
show me how I’m wrong
stab me with the truth,
make sure I have a long way to fall.
I need that
a strong slap in the face
a bucket of cold water over my head
a violent shake for me to leave my head
and see the reality from your view.
Unleash on me
whatever method necessary
to penetrate my thick skull
remove the rotting roots
and plant a new seed.
Fight me.
Counter-intuitive, it is,
to invest in self expression and breaking free
but
cower away from doing so
with people I am supposed to trust.
Maybe I’m not healed after all.
Speak a little louder,
dear heart.
Speak a little louder
so I may hear what you really want,
what I really want.
Speak a little louder
so you can guide me to where I am meant,
to the path I have been searching for
for years.
Speak a little louder
and let me inside,
I want to listen to you
for you can be my only guide.
I cross my legs and think of you,
laying in the hospital bed
secretly crossing your legs
when you thought the nurses weren’t looking
and smile with a sarcastic laugh
when they caught you in the act
and scolded you for it.
I cross my legs and think of you.
Buried deep, hidden away
and scarcely given air to breathe,
creation, and exploration,
live within us all.
In fear of retribution
or misunderstanding or judgement,
they reside in the deep, dark
corners of our self
where they are safe
but unable to grow,
to change,
to showcase their gifts.
We are here but a short while.
Take my hand
and step forward with me
into a new world of possibilities,
of freedom.
Step forward into expansion
and I promise you,
regret will not follow in your shadow.
When you can slow down time
even for an evening,
drawing all focus to yourself
and no one else,
actions, thoughts and emotions
bloom out of the darkest corners
where you thought that nothing
could grow.
I met souls like mine today.
In the same place at the same time
we came together
to learn
to share
to embrace the future.
Hearts that beat like mine
Minds that think like mine
Hands that write like mine
Souls pouring out like mine
surrounded me
and breathed new life into me.
I found myself again
amongst strangers
that I was yearning to find
amongst ‘my people’.
Maybe these are my new people.
I saw you coming, but you still snuck
up on me,
bringing more strength, brutal force
than I anticipated,
than I could prepare for.
You must have been planning this attack
for weeks,
just when I thought you were gone
you not-so-kindly reminded me
that you’re still here,
you’re never going away
and you will certainly be back.
That’s how you like it, isn’t it?
To study, stalk and unleash on your prey,
me,
when I least expect,
when I am least prepared.
However,
your destructive methods require some fine-tuning,
for each time I get stronger,
better, more attune to you.
You won’t have the upper hand forever.
You may find it in the
least expected of places;
what you want,
what you’re looking for,
if you can only keep your
eyes and heart
open.
Flickering flames of light
illuminate the air and objects around them,
dancing to a song only they can hear
with thin ribbons of smoke trailing up
from their outstretched arms
and dissipating into nothingness.
I wonder what song they’re dancing to
and how they can perform in both
syncronisity and individuality.
My eyes plead me not to attempt at
watching them all;
focus on one only –
I see a flame that dances by itself
but also
joins in with the others,
and another does the same.
I wonder if I can be like that, too.
Dawning Words 