Being open is realizing there's no barrier between you and me- we both came with a certain touch of mystery, not afraid of changing our minds giving time, letting go the notion of straight lines regarding life.
Category: sea shells
Understand.
I'm hard to live with by myself. Constant torment inside these walls. One side is hot like hell, the other side chill like death. There's a person in the middle whom I can't tell. It's a split long ago. Something to endure, not knowing what. The ship will sink, nobody can hear the screams. The horror of a brain turned outside in. Can't bear others' help. They're making it worse. Not understanding the enemy is me.
Mine.
Mom & dad say, "Why bother, a daughter belongs to someone else." They were right. I am mine.
Thankful.
I'm a woman of subtle grievance. It doesn't hurt my body none but the spirit is dragging. "Why me?" I ask, "to see all the shits?" And be unhappy like I'm the one and only. Well, well, maybe the reason's obvious but the courage is lacking or it's the little things like timing. Someday I may decide there are memories worth having, and pain & joy are one and the same.
Simple.
I studied the stars & the moon to an inch of my life. What I look for is instead in the dark cave of a deep groove. It whispers pain & ruin. But the spell breaks once you realize where you are and are no longer afraid of the simple truth.
Time-released.
Have you taken a pill that's hard to swallow. It's bitter & hard, and takes time to dissolve? No sugar can chase it down. No water can speed its way. Then it lodges in your gut and there, it is to stay. Maybe I didn't choose what comes my way; didn't have a clue until it gives away. It's not in a hurry. It knows more than I. Time-released wisdom, must you be such a drag?
The future show.
I keep my eyes on the future. It never arrives, so I wait detached from everything and everyone... I'm afraid.
Hungry mushroom.
The ones act normal are the craziest of all. The ones behave erratically are the most raw. The soul of social conscious says, "Shush. Don't wake the mycelium that knows not the spores."
Infantile.
I'm so infantile. I don't know right from wrong, can't tell need from want, but it's great for a song, cost you more for a dance. "Oh, ain't that cute?" While I make a big poo-poo. Boys will always be boys. Girls are women from age 5. Maybe I'm in denial, guess I still give a fork to think there's more to learn beyond the ground of kindergarten. Where's my mommy and daddy!
Colors.
I used to let outside colors mingle with mine results in something I can't quite describe. It's a blending of the world inside that from outside may seem mad. I could walk in air, live on a patch of dirt and be content. The peace shattered, it wasn't meant to last. As if I need to prove that I'm worthy of that kinda love. And if I know it, remember it, and want it enough. What's easy has become so hard. The real test is coming back to the start.