Dust
I’m desperate for the dust that once lined my heaving lungs. I can not differentiate between what is worse, my ravaged heart, distant, beating for no one or the comforts of home and familiarity amidst impoverished streets. I miss the scents, and playing in tattered clothing. I miss the old man telling his stories that had more wisdom and character than any modern day television set I sit in front of now. My memories still keep the long sleeved shirts we transformed into soccer balls and the sunlight which picked up each and every particle in the warm summer glow. The golden days were ours. We didn’t have much but we certainly had everything.
Intersection
It can be said that on occasion, our greatest pain intersects with the greatest love of our lives. If we cut ourselves off to living, to not feeling what we think we can’t bear, we may just be cutting ourselves off to the greatest achievements of our lifetime. The calm before the storm. Attempting the unknown. Jump head first, you may otherwise never learn that you’re capable of creating more than you ever thought you could. You may never know because of being scared.
And what is scared? A feeling. A feeling that will stick around until you tell it to go. This feeling has a way of dispersing once we confront what seemed impossible, not allowing ourselves to go ahead. That’s our responsibility. Inhibitions will never apologize for their actions. They’re only there because you give them that permission. They can make your world feel so small. They make your stomach churn with anxiety. They put words in your mouth such as “can’t”.
Let them go. Banish them from your daily life and vocabulary. Do one thing today that inhibitions would hate, because after all, you always had that rebellious soul that couldn’t be stopped from anything but yourself.
You Call Me Woman
I was raised by women that endured endless pain to see me succeed and I bear this name. I come from a long line of words and actions filled with wisdom both irrational and sane, an exponential intelligence which rolls from my tongue. So excuse me if I come off as arrogant when your ignorance gets to be too much. My boldness connects to my heritage, a rich colorful tapestry of life that flows through my veins, generations of experiences woven together that rise up within.
Beauty
Like vines growing free there’s a rebirth to beauty and where we may not have seen it in the past it somehow surprises with stunning new emergence. You can hack away at its foundation but it will only come back stronger. It may take the form of something new and unexpected. It may not be much in the beginning but how beautiful it does become. It’s not in the letters or words, but in the life, and is painted on the hearts and minds of those it touches.
I’ve seen it live from within, a quiet life. I’ve seen it wasted on another sitting dull from without. Ever present, nonetheless.
