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I had awoken in darkness. To a voice I didn’t recognize, yet somehow seemed so familiar. Something in the cadence brought back a memory that danced just at the edge of awareness. “Ah, you’re finally waking. Good. You’re most likely feeling a little lost right now. A little uncertain of where you are perhaps?” The…
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To be created, one must assume the creator cares. That one is not simply a project. A bolt from tepid air. To be awakened from your slumber, by the breath of life anew. Would it bring much excitement? Or confusion through which you view? To be created and forgotten, to be drawn forth, then locked away.…
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There will come a day when I will have to leave One last journey to endure, one last step I will take This day of leaving is one that cannot be altered, changed or rearranged This last day is fixed One last breath One last decision for me to make But on this day that…
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“Yet how so? It could not be true. His body had been brought home. Laid to rest just last spring, myself and the vicar had seen it done. And yet his voice did call to me, here and now, from just beyond the door. “
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Do we keep reaching out for the same love because it feels safe? The same love that we keep finding ourselves in…because the chaos, the mistreatment, that type of dysfunction we already know how to handle? We have adjusted. Our nervous system and mind have so fully synched to living in fight or flight. So…
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How do you tell someone you’re drowning without opening your mouth to speak….to scream? And if you did…if you managed to speak…would that not let one more wave in? Effectively ending the battle you knew you were losing? One minute closer to the end? So, sometimes we drown in silence. With no one else around. Waiting…
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Is there a set price for atonement? A threshold I haven’t yet met? Is there a certain price to pay to be allowed to finally forget? To forget the ways you say I failed you. The way I never quite measured up. The way I didn’t fit your mold and that failure became my fault. …
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Was the hatter truly mad, or with his curious eyes could he see? That to find one’s self one must lose one’s self , for to never find yourself is to never be set free. How many times must we lose ourselves, only to find ourselves again. Not the old version we’ve lost, but the…
