I live my life through the words I write
I’m tired of hiding,
of trying to cover up the parts of me
that express who I am.
I no longer want to be
always searching for the appropriate mold
for each situation
and contort to fit into it.
For too long
I’ve melted my wax body into a glass jar
so someone else can light the wick
enjoy the scent I burn.
Now, I burn for myself.
What lay asleep in blackness
only moments ago,
now shows me signs of waking up
with color and light shining on,
and emanating from, their being.
Trees and clouds, vehicles and houses
come into full-colored view
as dawn breaks into day.
As coffee courses through my body
and words fill the pages,
I too come into full-colored view,
into myself.
If I could stay
here, wrapped tight in cotton and down,
I would feel safe, protected,
from everyone
including myself.
Even if
I must sit here for hours
waiting for my mind to find stable ground
and step off the race track,
I will wait
as long as it takes.
If I do not wait for myself,
what I lose
is me.
I feel
whole
peaceful
beautiful
myself
until I look in the mirror.
So many words
by so many people
out there,
telling me not to trust myself
telling me how to find my purpose
telling me how to take control of my life.
There is so much noise filling my head
telling me to do this or that,
that I cannot trust myself
and I likely do not have control of me,
leaving me in a disarray
screaming into a pillow
in an attempt to escape the noise.
I spend more time reading about
and listening to
people who preach what to do,
by the time I’m done
I feel more confused about what to do
than before I started.
Wise are these words, yes,
but so too are those within me
which have led me to who
and where I am now.
Perhaps they deserve more attention
than those screaming at me from
beyond,
as they whisper softly from within,
“I know how to help you.”
Dawning Words 