Uninhibited, I am someone who speaks what I want and need. In these dark hills, I walk away from greed.
Unaffected, I am the one who keeps trying, because I’m not fond of life dying.
Unreal, I reach towards the stars, knowing that my fingertips reach far.
And understanding, to know that I know exactly where I’m landing.
In this world of terror and worry, I won’t allow it to steal my flurry of love and truth, honestly something I hold so dearly to my heart.
I want to be who I am, and I will be. Because the only person I can be is me.
These days together lately have been rough. But I find myself to be tough. Toughened by the challenges that lie in front of me, but not hardened by what they create of me.
I wish that I could’ve done better in the past, but what’s done is done. There’s nothing I can do but move on.
As I allow my face to turn towards the light with the sun to shine on my features, I will forever understand that I am one of those gentler creatures.
My bare feet grace the ground with their presence; soon being filled with the essence of truth and happiness. For I walk towards the light that lifts me, that of which brings my anxiety and depression away from me. And in these steady days, I will find peace in many different ways.
As I search for ways to help others and to bring happiness to myself, I find the book of my life upon a shelf. Upon the shelf of everything I ever needed; these words I say now which were created.
Bring forth the greatest happiness you can find, for I dance with joy and unwind. Filled with flower dust and the nectar of life, there’s nothing that should bring forth strife.
And in this broken soul, I find myself mended once more. My words flowing, flowing towards the shore.
In this home, I am safe. In this home, I have room to show my face. In this home that loves me for me, there is nothing that I cannot be.
In this home that tells me the truth, there’s not a thing that seems out of reach. In this home my family applauds, so there’s no need for any facade.
In this home I can just be me, everything that I ever wanted and was meant to be. With a mother who cannot be compared to a brother who loves me more than life itself, I am definitely blessed within the family realm.
And in these small due times, I will find nature’s designs. The ones that soon become mine, lining up without resistance. And soon I’ll see the fruits of my labor in my own existence, for I already am. In the night, I find myself in the gentle wind.
For that is what my home – a true home – is.
Thinking myself to burnt out, the words no longer coming to my mind. I am not burnt out, but simply having to mine for the words that line my very thoughts. I never thought I would be filled with infinite possibilities; but with disabilities.
Nothing can stop me from dancing to the renegade’s song. On my own I am strong. I make my own path, take part in my own life. Making passageways through the labyrinths that are mine. Mine and mine only. To me, they are holy.
I love who I am for once, and I will never give up this chance to do so. To my own self-love, I will never say no.
Struggling to speak these words of the horror that torments my mind. However, I know that these things will be okay, and my life is mine.
Listening to Celtic music and feeling sick from the weather; a dragon journal made out of leather. Filled with my thoughts and ideas, it will always be there for me in my darkest of eras.
Not knowing what to do, but knowing that nightmares cannot manifest themselves into life; it’s something that would be met with strife.
Though these things plague my very being, they will not find themselves in favor of my seeking happiness. And now with them in my mind, I will reclaim what’s mine.
My own mind.
In lands far away, I see these lonely days stretch into months, years, infinity. There’s nothing I can do right now other than love myself. There’s nothing I can do but trust that it will get better.
And it will.
Trust is not something that comes easy to me, but something that fails to be. I find myself cynical of everything, questioning every word that every person says. I wonder if it’s the truth or if I’m being lied to; it’s something I’ve taught myself to do.
I’m not entirely sure how I feel about it yet. But it will come soon, I bet. The way that I’ll understand my true feelings about this world and its danger, and to let go of my anger. To be the adult I want and need to be, but to also take care of me.
So many things swirling around, it’s hard to find solid ground. It’s almost like I’m bound, destined to respond to these sounds.
Bold text and even more bold actions, I would love to be someone worth knowing with my fractions of everything that makes me who I am; a patchwork quilt of everything that makes up the organism that is ‘me’.
In these little lies, I search to find the truth among their lives. It seems tedious but wise, and I won’t ever fail to realize. These days are hard, but things will get better. That’s what tomorrows are for.
And as I’ve written these words on this blog the past few weeks, I’ve found myself happier and more at peace than I’ve ever been, thanks to the safety I feel within now to express myself in the ways that I need to; all in order to speak the truth to you.
As I cherish these things that I have, I feel for others who don’t. I wish there was a way that I could give to them, but I can’t. Because of these circumstances I found myself bound by happenstance.
I don’t want this blog to be entirely dedicated to me, I want to speak of others as well. I wish to be a humanitarian in every sense, because of the way these people fell. And because of the ache in my heart I feel when I see these things, their truths I will tell.
I know this may seem random, but I have thought of this for years. Though I stopped myself because of my own fear. The fear of being judged, but now that disappears. Because these people cry real tears.
Hopefully charity in the making, I certainly am not faking the sorrow I feel when I see another soul suffer. It’s something I wish to never see upon another.
So as I speak these things on my mind and rhyme these rhymes, I will hopefully come to the time where with these words, I can make a difference. Truly.
In desolate places and derelict spaces, I see the faces of the future. Those that deserve to have their voices heard.
As I look around myself I find it hard to find what I should see: the reality of those around me. Yet I cannot, because it is covered up; something I will never truly understand.
Aches and pains and trickling rain. Although I ache for the future, I also ache for the sameness that comes about upon every nook and cranny of every alley. People of the world deserve to have their voices heard, not dismissed as they have been.
Magazines draw me in and despite my knowledge of lies in the media, I choose what I believe. I believe in the day when we can sit side by side and stay together as one. That we could have fun.
Reading these issues of the world, I wish I could help, but I find myself helpless in a situation where I have not experienced what others have. I don’t understand the discrimination, and perhaps I never can. It’s not within my hands.
Still, even as a girl with porcelain skin and green eyes, I will devise what plans I can to help those who need it. It’s not as simple as speaking about it; I want to do something.
But still I find myself within this room, attached to my sickness, attached to my lack of knowledge of the outside world.
Maybe someday, though, I’ll find a way to change the world.
I will step forward and try to be the very best version of me. But how could I be the best version of me when that’s something even I can’t see?
As I earn my place among them, and I fight to collect these rhymes, I will have to let go of those times. The times where it seemed everything fell out of place and everything I ever needed to far for me to reach, and too painful for me to face. I’d love to be among them, as confident as a queen, as elegant as lace. And despite my worries, it will never be too late.
Two long months, it seems. An eternity to me. Perhaps these clever miracles will show me all that I’m meant to be.
Bare without a name, I write mine on the walls of a small cave among the rocky shore, something they’ll always remember when they come back for more. As I desire to be known in this way, I’ll understand that my judgment can’t sway.
There will be so many watching, waiting, and anticipating. Whether I do the right thing or mess up. I’m not willing to give it up for certainty and security. Being everything that I want to be.
And solace within me can always be the freedom I’ll always need.