What are you afraid of.
I’m not sure. There’s just so much noise that I don’t know if it is my own voice that is speaking or someone else’s. Go on, praise and preach. But your words I choose not to believe. I am slightly annoyed at all the interruptions. My moment of silence is never complete. Am I too slow in making my decisions. This world is trying to make me predictable.
What am I feeling now? At this very moment? What is going through my mind? Without judgement. Without me judging me through others’ eyes. Just write. Let it out. Speak. Explain why these reasons lurk about. Unclothe the layers I pile upon my skin. They do nothing but keep heat in. Run bare. Expose truth. The stories behind these scars, this bruise and those wounds.
My happy side. It ran away. It tried to call back my childhood. I wept. I felt abandoned. Why did they leave and did not return. Was I not loving enough. Did I lay too soft that anyone who sought comfort just went and laid on top.
The ruins remained mysterious. Lifestyle never felt. Past never pieced together. Unique beauty held but never appreciated. Built but not well maintained.
To lose nothing was scary. It was all I had left. To forgive was admitting defeat but I was running out of excuses. To continue I had to begin. So I let go.
She let go of the blade that she held over her skin
Tattering into shape the ideal that she saw from a magazine.
She let go of the man who brought nothing but grief
Stole her money claiming he was a hunter who would bring back meat and honey, make her smile, be genuine and sweet.
Betrayed by false dreams, blurring instructions, twisted directions.
She let me in and there I found a stronger soul. Caught in awe, I witnessed the demise of old rotting habits …