Sunday, October 21, 2018

A Peter Pan

October 21, 2018 1







"We can sail away Tonight,
On a sea of pure moonlight.
We can navigate the stars,
Bring us back home.
In a place so far way,
We'll be young, that's how we'll stay."

-Zendaya (Neverland)








 Old photographs,
That line these walls, 
Of you and I. 


Frozen in time,  
Little wide eyes, 
Climbing cherry trees and catching butterflies, 
Holding hands as we, 
Run in meadows made of dandelion. 


“Till we’re old and gray,” you’d promise, 
Little chubby finger wrapped around mine, 
Pinkies intertwined. 


Old and gray. 
We never became. 
Yet, the cherry trees outside shed their leaves, 
The butterflies fly away. 
Petals of dandelion, drift in the wind, 
Along with your presence, 
Long gone. 

And I remain,  
Alone. 
Pinky promises forgotten, 
To the reality, 
Of growing up. 


My dear Peter Pan,  
Won’t you come back? 




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By at October 21, 2018 1 comment:
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Thursday, August 9, 2018

A White Flag

August 09, 2018 2
          'Put an X on my chest,
But I'm still standing 'cause I won't forget,
The hell on earth you put me through,
I'll save myself in spite of you.'


-Bishop Briggs (White Flag)



 In a world filled with approximately 7.6 billion people, there is only one you.
 The only shade of royal purple in the mix of periwinkles and violets.
            The only protagonist in your own epic adventure written in the font that suits you best.
            Your personality is a mixture of your own spin on the world mixed with the influence of the people around you.
            Yet, those people include the hypocrites, the judges and the jury who force you to adapt to the circumstances thrown your way.
            A comment about your appearance changes a stick of balm into glossy lipstick.      
            A pair of sneakers into Gucci heels.
            A regular coat into an expensive leather jacket.
            When the occasion calls for it, these changes make sense.
            But how about for a regular night out with friends, are all the differences really necessary?
Because, I mean, in a world filled with approximately 7.6 billion people, there is only one you.
Remember that.

She held that tattered white flag in her right hand dangled from a couple pale fingers, the edge of fabric sweeping the ground beneath her feet.
Her eyes were squeezed shut, a symphony of voices filling her ears.
“Disappointment.”
“Slow.”
“Ugly.”
“Stupid.”
Hate, spite, anger, frustration, she breathed it in, choking in a fit of coughs.
Choking until her eyes snapped open.
Silence.
         It was silent as she dropped that white flag onto the dirt, watching it bounce once and then lie still.

 No more white flags.
            No more giving in to ugly comments, harsh truths and hypocritical judgment.
            No more believing you aren’t good enough just because your circumstances say you aren’t.
            In that labyrinth of twisted hallways and spiraling roads, pave your own path straight through the dead center.

            Those resented voices buzzed in her ears as she walked down that crowded hallway.
          No eyeliner.
          No mascara.
          No lipstick.
          Just her.
          Raw, bare and true.
           
         You decide whether or not you can or cannot.
            Not those people standing on the sidelines, throwing you stormy glances.
            Not that jury, watching your every move only to reprimand you when you perform the one wrong in a million and one rights.
            Not that anchor which drags you down levels of sand and debris, barely allowing you the chance to breathe.
            And definitely not that captor, who turns you blind, expecting you to see and clips your wings, expecting you to fly.
           
            She remembered the friend who’d made her an outcast.
The lover who’d led her on just to look cool when he left her.
The bestie who’d lied about her to be a part of that popular circle.
The Hawk eyes followed her form, whispers reverberating in the background.
         And for once, she ignored them.
         ‘Beautiful’, they’d call her as she strode down that hall, her head held high, ‘a force to be reckoned with.’
           
         Be the writer of your own story, the decider of your own destiny, and the teller of your own fate.
Let your story be heard.
           There’s always someone listening.

            She paved her own path, engraved her own kismet, and forged her own life.
          No more white flags.
          Never again.








           

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By at August 09, 2018 2 comments:

Friday, July 13, 2018

A Ticking Clock

July 13, 2018 3




'I'm staring at the ceiling.
The clock, it won't stop ticking.
I feel like I've been sleeping for too long, now.
It's like my heart stopped beating, and now I'm hardly breathing,
And I'm afraid of leaving, scared to break down.'

-Maddie Poppe (Going Going Gone)
           Have you ever looked out the window of a car, watching in silent content at that never ending road as the verdure outside continues to rush past the glass in a blur of green?  Have you squinted up at that shining sun which casts a golden hue upon your over sensitized flesh, warming your skin straight down to the bone?
Did you take a deep breath, staring at the scenery outside moving too fast for comfort, wishing for the world to spare your eyes a moment to take in all of its beauty without the added drawbacks of a hasty retreat?
How about wanting to push the pause button on that stretch of sunlit suburban road?
To stop in the middle of that highway, flicking on a foot tapping tune that causes your heart to pound in ecstasy and your soul to burn in euphoria?
Perhaps you did.
So, “why didn’t you?”

He pushed his hair out of his eyes, staring up at the constellation of stars which glowed a pale green hovering just a few feet above his head.  They had been stuck onto an ivory colored backdrop in a manner which could’ve only appealed to a child.
A nostalgic repulsion filled the boy’s lungs as his eyes fell upon a stuffed Teddy, worn with age, seated upon a twin sized bed.  His mind flitted to a memory of his mother handing him the toy, her rosy lips whispering a soothing,” play with Teddy until I get back.  Momma loves you.”
Years later, and she still hadn’t returned.
Eyelids shut as the recollection came to a halt, a burn of tears in the back of eyes much wiser and older than the once eight year olds who had believed every word his mother had said.
He turned his head to the side, catching sight of the wooden door which lay to his left, whispering quietly under his breath,” what am I even waiting for?”

           They say that we all wait for opportunities to come knocking at our doors.
We wait for success, expecting it to be right around the corner.
We wait for the destination, wishing the climb was over in a snap.
We even wait for reality to sink in, so that our imaginations don’t run wild.
But is waiting really worth the while?
What if we made an opportunity instead of seeking one?
What if we succeeded out of pure will instead of expectation?
What if we enjoyed the climb instead of resenting it?
What if we dreamed bigger instead of narrowing our perspectives?
Suddenly life isn’t all about the wait.
No.
Life is meant to be explored, discovered, journeyed.
Life is meant to be lived.

Hope.
He was waiting for Hope.
He wished Hope could’ve knocked on his door, came in and helped him cook a meal, and then shared it with him as they sat on the couch, talking as if there were no tomorrow.
He wished Hope would’ve laid his hands upon his shoulder, looked him in the eye and told him that he was ‘there to listen’ when he asked him why ‘he was doing all the talking?’
He wished Hope would’ve told him who he’d be today so that he could go through the pain of yesterday knowing there would be a better tomorrow.
Sometimes, he could only wish Hope was watching, leaned up against the doorframe and maybe he just couldn’t see him.

            Stop measuring life by that ticking clock which hangs above your doorframe.
            Instead, start measuring it by the moments that matter. 
            By the music box that plays on your dresser every morning, waking you up to a rising sun.
            By the breeze that blows your hair back while you hike through the woods as a shower of rain drenches your being to the core.
            By the necklace lost on that Paris getaway, leaving you heartbroken as you waited for a date that never showed up.
            By the laughs that rang out on that Venetian Gondola ride, as you struggled to get out of the rocking boat without doing a face plant in the water.
            By the tears shed on that Cape Cod beach, where the saline from your eyes was lost amongst the ocean blue.
            By the smiles, the heartbreaks, the laughs and the sobs that wrench their way out of your lungs, leaving you emotionally exhausted but still satisfied in the oddest mixture of feelings.

            He pushed open that heavy teak door, feeling the sun warm his skin, a dazzling smile lighting his face as his feet sunk into dew covered grass.
            A laugh bubbled out of his throat, excitement filling his veins as his eyes darted, taking in a world left to explore.
                       
            Breathe.
            Bleed.
            Love.
            Live.
            From this moment on, stop ignoring and start feeling.
            Stop waiting and start living.

            The sun kissed his tresses as he drove his Chevy on that sunlit suburban road, feeling the breeze push back his hair and the warm breath of Hope emblaze his heart.
                         


                       


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By at July 13, 2018 3 comments:

Monday, April 9, 2018

An I'm Only Human

April 09, 2018 2





‘Take a look in the mirror and what do you see?
Do you see it clearer, or are you deceived,
In what you believe?
Cause I’m only human after all.
You’re only human after all.
Don’t put the blame on me.’
- Rag’n’Bone (Human)
           

           

            Sometimes you make mistakes.
Sometimes you don’t make the cut.
Sometimes you look at your reflection in the mirror and wonder ‘where did I go wrong’?
Failure.
Disappointment.
Letdown.
No.
What you are is human.

The mirror stares back at her silently, glowing in the pale light of the lamp hovering over her head.
Her eyes are red, one too many tears shed, running down her face in clear rivulets of hurt.
“What did I do wrong?” she wonders in a whisper, gazing at the prominent blues and blacks that taunt her with their livid blotches.

There are times when the world throws bricks at your form, expecting you to cower in fear. 
            Times when people slash your being with words that pierce through even the deafest of ears. Times when people give you hope, just to snatch it away in the blink of an eye.
 Silent screams lost amongst the crowd of ignorant acceptance of all the abuse.  Of all those words that leave you reeling, wanting to fight back, wanting to cry out to anyone who will listen.
            But how do you fight back, when no one wants to listen?  When all those stormy eyes threaten your insecurities and make you bite your tongue in vulnerability? When all those lips keep moving, but don’t actually hear a sound?
            How do you fight back, when no one is even listening?

            Her eyes burn with unshed tears, fingers trembling in silent fear as she unlocks the front door and watches silently as he enters with a dominant air.
            He barely glances her way before heading towards the counter, nodding towards the kitchen with a quick, “Get me something to drink.”
            Her limbs move even before she can comprehend the words completely.  The glass set atop the countertop is filled quickly and grasped in shaking hands as she makes her way towards his form.
            When her hand brushes against his as he grabs for the glass, she jumps at the sudden contact.  As though in slow motion, the cup plummets towards the tiled floor, shattering into a million pieces just like the world she sees through tear laced lashes.
            His grip on her hand becomes painful and she whimpers out an apology that ends with a crash and sudden silence.

            Don’t live your life bending to everyone else’s will.
Bending so far back that your spine is about to snap.
            Hold your head up and walk away from all those people who walked all over you and took you for granted.
            Walk away from all those people who made you worry when there was nothing to worry about.
            Who accused you of NOT TRYING when you spent half your life TRYING just for them.
Who told you, you can call them whenever you need while every time they chose to pick up the phone, they always told you they were TOO BUSY to talk.
            To text you back.
            To leave a voice message.
            To tell you, you meant something to them when you needed to hear it the most.

            She leaves him the next morning.
            The freedom she feels when she finally walks out of the prison that has held her captive for the past four years of her life is indescribable.
            Her eyes fill with tears that run down her face in small, wet rivulets.
            This time they are not from pain, but instead, from joy.

You are not weak for crying.
You are not wrong for disagreeing with the so called ‘norm’.
You are not a failure for making mistakes.
What you are is human.
You break.
            You bruise.
            You bleed.
            And yes, you feel emotion to.
            But that’s just what you are.
            One cannot change WHAT he or she is.  They can only alter WHO they are.
            So embrace the what, and figure out the who.
            And then smile, because life, well, life’s not that bad when you finally accept that you’re only human.

            She wasn’t a disgrace.
            Nor was she a disappointment.
            No.
            She was strength.
            Courage.
            Hope.
            What she was, was human.






           


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By at April 09, 2018 2 comments: