A Life Unlived

We reminisce so much about the past that it becomes like a second shadow. We dream so much about the future that we are hardly present.

We talk so much about our lives, we forget to live it.

Twenty Nineteen

This year broke like a ray of sun on rain; hope that pierced my heart like an ache. Brought the promise of a new beginning; a chance to set things right. But it came with the same old sadness, the same betrayals, the inescapable turmoil of my life. The peaks and valleys of my days, like the line of a pulse shooting up so high, I thought nothing would ever touch me again, and then so low that nothing could.

This year found new ways to break my heart but I didn’t let it break me. Gave as much as it took and still left me wanting. Left me with a proud, unwavering sense of myself, and a fierce, unbreakable resolve to conquer the next.

Let It

I have a rule about not thinking where I am or what comes next. I guess when you let go of the need to know, everything tends to fall into place. It is okay to dream, to allow your higher self to take care of the rest.

So, if something is calling you, answer. If it bursts out of your chest like a trapped bird set free, follow it. There is a mysterious pull that longs to take you exactly where you need to go. Let it.

All I See

Did you say I am the girl who reads too much into everything—that I can’t look at a word without seeing a poem—or turn a flower into a field? I never see things as they are, only what they could be. So, can you blame me when I look at you and all I see is love.

Locked Boxes

My mind is filled with keys

and locked boxes

With every turn I hear

the click of a pen

In every box

there is a poem

Crystal Ball

When I look back on my life, it is so easy to see how every decision could have led me elsewhere. And if only I’d had the gift of hindsight, I could have changed it for the better. But how could I have known that crystal balls are just a skewed reflection of our present? So now I am standing here, wondering what direction I should go in. Looking, looking for what I’m not seeing.

For a Man

My absolute love and adoration for a man can live in peace with my feminism.

Nine Books

The first book was a song that came from nowhere. The second and third bloomed like a garden I kept in secret. By the fourth, something dark was brewing. I lost my way at five, six, and seven. By eight I wanted blood. Here at nine I am back to the sweet insistent singing from where it started. Never has my voice echoed so freely. Drawn from the well of my soul. And I will always sing like this from now on. Even if I’m the only one who hears it.