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.
Trust is stained on my lips, my hands, my heart. I can’t help but allow it to depart. Now in these single days and hours that feel so long, perhaps there will be a time when trust won’t feel so wrong.
In everything I’m meant to be, writing will be solace for me. Something comfortable and clean. It won’t ever be mean.
In the absence of cruelty and the essence of confusion, I don’t understand this particular intrusion. My fingers on my pulse and my hair up in a bun, maybe this day I’ve won.
My heart beats steady, just like it should. Beating to the rhythm of the melody within my own head, perhaps it could. And in these darkening nights and haunting curtains, perhaps to be comfortable, I would.
In this silence that encompasses reality, there’s just something that can’t touch this simplicity. It should be complicated, but caught within I know I was wrong. Indeed; I did write this song. And now in every direction I turn, for you it is that I yearn.
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.
To write is to become immortal. These scripted words upon this worn out page.
This is something I recently learned. I’m fascinated with writing and in love with it now more than ever.
I love to write because it helps me to understand myself, and how I’m feeling. Been recently I’ve been feeling a little burnt out. I apologize for that. Perhaps writing so much a day took it out of me! Either way, I feel exhausted. But one thing is for sure: I’ll never get tired of writing.
Swinging among the trees to an empty melody. I want to see time freeze as I feel this gentle breeze. Through my auburn hair and hazel eyes, I can promise that they don’t cry. For now I’ve found my solace, dancing in my own dreamland, with no worry to be had.
To understand is to experience, and to experience is to risk it all. I might surely fall, but somehow I’ve been caught in a net; one that saves my life now. I wonder how I could feel if I went all the way to not allow others to steal my happiness. They cannot instill sorrow within me.
Still burdened by things of the past, I am not yet entirely free. But this person, yes, I can be. And in the crescent moon I adore I search for fulfillment no more.
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.