Poison Memory

Every time you're there, the memories come.
They sit at the tip of my tongue.
All the horrors I've seen.
The past I try to hide.
They sit and wait, like a drop of poison, to fall to your ear.
But every time you take a breath, your eyes light up, and I can't do it.
You talk about your passions and bring mine to life.
You drive the madness back inside.
You keep it at bay one day at a time.
I crave your calming presence.
I pray for one more day of your easy smile.
For one more chance to hear you laugh,
And you save me every day.

Rosy Steps

She went from walking across plains of barren ash, to fields of roses in a week.
They sprung up, all around her feet, all at once, with no warning.
At first, it was a small patch.
But it followed her as she walked.
With each step she took, they sprung up.
Every place her foot kissed the earth, another row would grow, spreading like a brilliant fire across the barren land.
They made her feel like running.
Like filling her lungs with clean air and escaping the dusty cloud she lived in.
And so she ran.
The flowers followed her, ever as loyal as they were stunning.
The blood in her veins was racing.
Her heart was beating.
Before she knew it, all she could see was color and she forgot what blandness felt like.

Princess of the Self Built Tower

When you let them go, all you can see is the anger.
All you know is the pain and the sting of the fight.
And when you walk away, you don't care where the pieces land, you just pray they won't land too close to home.

But when the dust settles, and you can see clearly, things are never that easy.
Time softens the worst of all situations.
You remember less fights and more smiles.
You forget the tears and remember the laughter.
And all the sudden you're standing in a cold, empty castle that you built yourself with the debris.

One day, you look up and you realize no one locked you in that tower but yourself.
You threw stones at every prince and pauper that tried to save you.
And eventually, no one cares enough to save you anymore, so you have to save yourself.

Searching for Alignment

We have the misconception that we enter this world whole and leave it broken.  

I think it is, in fact, the other way around.  

From the moment you are born, you are empty.  

No knowledge, no relationships, no independence, no freedom.  

As you grow and learn, you become filled.  

Every relationship your build, fills you more.  

Even when they end, they don't break you completely, they just break off a portion.  

Eventually, someone will come along who has a broken edge that aligns with yours.  

They may fit for a season, and then the ground may crack and shift and in a second, someone who once completed you, in no way fits your edges anymore.  

We search all our lives, not for someone who can put us back together, but for someone who's brokenness aligns with our own in such a way that we feel more whole than we ever could without them. 

Few Words for a Hard Day

Life is never easy.
Just when you find the top, you begin to fall.
But nothing is ever all bad, there is always hope.
You just have to look.
In heartache, there might be one moment of laughter before the tears return.
In betrayal, there are always the memories.
Though, they do taste bittersweet with recollection.
In every darkness, there is light.
Sometimes you just have to look harder than others.
There is a poetic-ism about the tragedy, if you can find the right words.
Maybe I cannot.
Maybe I can only string together a faint outline of those acute moments of bliss in the torrent of pain.
Maybe I cannot accurately represent them.
But I can feel them.
I can feel them like the sun on my face and the wind in my hair.
I can touch their softness, their authenticity, like the petals of a flower.
Maybe I can't tell you what they're like.
Maybe I can do them no justice.
But I can live them and that's really all I want.

Infinite Sunlight

Days come that make it hard to breathe.
They fall interspersed between the moments of light and make you forget that light exists at all.

But there of moments of incredible brilliance too.

Moments where one breath seems to last forever.
Moments where the sunlight is infinite.
Moments when this fragile life seems invincible.
Moments when the blue sky seems to stretch out into eternity and clouds cease to exist all together.
Moments when your ribs hurt from laughter and all you pray for is this feeling of hope to last for the rest of time.
Moments when nothing can touch us as we soar above the clouds in balloons made of dreams.

These moments are the ones to live for.

The people you make these moments with are the ones to live with.

War Alone

She never did like peace much.  It was a nice reprieve but the real beauty was in the chaos.
When her pulse raced beneath her skin.
When her hair stood on end.
When her breaths came in quick succession.
When her vision sharpened and her hands were quick.
That was the moment she lived for.  In that moment, she felt quite acutely the reality of life and the pang of existence.  It was then that she was at her finest; when every instinct kicked in and instead of a clumsy mess, she was an instrument of pain and vengeance.

She felt the tingle in her spine and the knot in her stomach and let out a sharp, dark laugh.  They had made a terrible mistake, bringing this to her.  They would pay with their lives.

From every angle, came arrows, flying through the air, aimed for critical points.  They hardly mattered, she was a machine.  She was created for this.  Let them come.
But she wasn't fighting enemies, she realized as the fog of battle dispersed.  These were friends.  These were trusted faces.  The realization caught like a lump in her throat.  She stumbled, thrown by betrayal and a rouge arrow slit her arm open.

Letting out a pained, disturbing cry, she fought harder.  But her mind was whirling and her hands were sloppy.  For every two attacks she fended off, one caught her by surprise, nicking her somewhere, somehow.

The tears came as she realized how alone she was.  Rage, hurt, and anger buoyed her strength and she tore through their defenses.  Even if she won, she wouldn't have really won at all.  She wouldn't exit this one unscathed.  She was fighting this war alone.

Willingly Blinded

I am neither a pessimist nor an optimist.
My mood changes like the wind; it is never fixed.
But on days like today, when sadness and light mingle in equal parts of my soul, I can see it all.
I see the darkness and the hardness of the world.
But I can also see where the light seeps in.

Sometimes the light hits the right angle and shimmers in a rainbow of color over what we see.
It illuminates the right points, contours the right edges and brings focus to the right angles.
It makes the ugly a bit more beautiful.
It gives harshness the appearance of softness and makes everything more gentle.
It shines on the shadows and makes them less dense.
It shows a path of hope though an otherwise dismal forest of despair.

When the light shines in the dark, it's hard to focus on anything else.
It's hard to lose yourself in the blackness.
It's hard to look anywhere other than directly at the hope that blinds your eyes.
And maybe that's for the best.
Because in total darkness, there is no up or down.
There is no order or reason; there is only chaos and frantic fear.
I'd much rather blind myself on light than let the darkness blind me.

Paths

I am caught, flitting between two roads with no foresight of where they will lead.

I know one is dangerous.  

Full of peril and heartache but undoubtedly full of feeling.

The other is safe, bright, hopeful. 

The moment I decide to slip into trouble, the light shows up.

It calls to me with reason and stability, never wavering an inch.

But the itch for excitement nags at me, tempting me to stray for a moment.

The mystery is alluring but the light is warm.

My mind turns in unending circles trying to decipher right from wrong as they swirl together.

I ask but no one has an answer.

Their words are as twisted as my feelings, going back and forth; reaching no real end.

I am stuck and I am lost.

I fear tumbling down some unwanted path due to dizziness.

And sick to my stomach with incessant turning, I begin to fall.

Walking Into Fire

I am begging you to get away from the fire but you just keep walking farther away from me, closer to eminent destruction.  I can scream my throat raw but you won't listen.  You aren't willing to help yourself and there's nothing I can do from here. I just watch with teary eyes and cry for you to stop.

I've run into the fire too many times to save people who wanted to burn.  They never thanked me, they never wanted my help.  I was the one burned beyond recognition time and time again.  I have too much fear, too much pride, too much self-preservation to run in after you.  It's a shame, because you're the one I'm most scared to lose.

But you just keep going.  I try and reason with you and you counter my every move.  Always another reason why you're destined to die this way.  Why you can't be saved.  Why there's no hope.

It's infuriating.  Maddening.  Sickening.  And it makes me want to stop trying to help you.  If you could only see how dangerous this is.  If you could only hear how ridiculous you sound.  It seems so simple, stop and turn around, but you swear it's more than that.  Still, you don't even try.  You let the flames lick your shoes and bite your nose and I know there's not much time left.

It's all I can do to save myself.  I can do nothing for you.  You've resigned yourself to this fate, this destiny that was never intended for you.

I'm sorry I couldn't pull you out.  I'm sorry I'm too selfish to save you.  But in all fairness, you never tried to save yourself, and if you didn't want it, could any power on earth ever really change your mind?

Maybe she could have.  Maybe you just didn't want me to be the one to save you.  But I was the only one here.  Yet she was all you thought of as the flames took control.