You are concrete I am a feather
You are practical I am a dreamer
You see what is I see what could be
You are literal I am poetic
You are whiskey I am wine
You are worried I am excited
You feel restless I am peace
You are worst case senerio I am best outcome
You are rain I am jumping in puddles
You are truth I am perspecive
You are everything is bad I am the silver lining
You are death I am life
You are a realist I am an optimist
You are strong I am weak
You are right I am wrong
You are logic I am feeling
You are my ground I am your sky
You are the unmovable I am the unstoppable
You need reassursnce I need understanding
You are saftey I am careless
You are my missing pieces I am yours
You are you I am me
you are- i am –
My puffy eyelids barely lifted to see the reflection of blurry eyed slits glaring back at me. Tears trickling down the strange perfectly made up cheeks, began to melt layers of paint. Layers meticulously applied to the flawed raw skin beneath. I watched, as make-up dripped from the emotionless face I didn’t recognize. My face. Everything that I was, everything that I had done to become this person I no longer recognized, leaked a colorful mess into the white porcelain sink. Blank and empty I stood and watched all the counterfeit bits I have plastered to my truth, through the years, listlessly fall away.
I touched a rag to the veneered face, hands heavy with weights I refused to put down. slowly wiping away the camouflage that I pretended was a part of me. With each scrape of lies, the raw ugly truth was uncovered. This concealer was for the time I lied to preserve my false integrity. This mask was the one I wore to convince others it was the other persons fault. As I scraped more plaster off the more I saw that all this make-up was just a facade, a false replica of what I wanted people to believe I was, who I wanted to believe I was.
The image. The perfect image, I created, all the costumes and masks I bought and paid for with, ego and self perseverance, slid down the drain. every drop of expensive covering tricked down more effortlessly than it was to maintain. The realness of my flaws was the only thing left. A bruise here, a gash of open flesh there. My bleary eyes glanced over to the make-up I used to hide my raw self. I considered plastering chemicals to my face to hide the inadequacies I didn’t want to look at. instead I pushed the iridescent glass bottles filled with plastic illusion off the counter, a small smile spread across my soul as they shattered on the cool marble.
The egotistical image was dead. The train wreck of my truth, the messes I participated in, my wrongs, my sins, longingly glared back at me begging for acceptance, and forgiveness. That’s when the real work began. I began to suture the deep purple gashes on my character, I started to let my skin heal. Instead of covering up the wounds I created I began the work to change them. I sank into my own skin, and accepted the responsibility of my scars, accepted the skin beneath the make-up. I wear my own skin as raw as the truth inside me flaws and all.
The sunlight is shining, through the smudged window on to his face, accentuating all the wrinkles that life has given him. All of his smiles, all his worry, all of life’s memories laid out like a map on his paper thin face.
He gasps for air, as if he has never breathed before, Things I take for granted. His brow is wet with perspiration.
I know, he is dying. He is not ready or willing, but it is happening.
I dab his face with a cold damp cloth. I am missing my thanksgiving dinner. I am missing the people who love me, because I am the only one he has.
I hold his clammy hand. Whisper to him, things I don’t know, I tell him that he has been enough, reassure him that the people who aren’t there love him. Even the worst of us deserve compassion.
The sun sets deeper, beams of orange light fall on his blanket, shadows cast across the wall. He is in pain.
I can’t help him. I have no pain medication to give him. The family forbids it, all the while they enjoy their turkey dinner. I hold his hand. I tell him he is enough. I tell him he is loved. I watch his struggle for every breath. It is close.
His winkled face relaxes, and poof hes gone, it is over. His soul is gone. I know it, I am now the only one in the room. He is gone.
I could go home and love my family. but I prefer to be alone.
Its just Life, no one gets out alive.
Stop the worries, stop the stress, and please I beg you to Live. Do the things you never thought you could. Its just life, no one get out alive.
No One is guaranteed a happy ending.
So go ahead make bad choices. Go ahead learn, but don’t expect things to go your way.
But expect to get back what you give in. You are not guaranteed a happy ending just because you were born, you have to try.
And one day she woke up. She was sick of dreaming. So she started living.
I was always told I was guarded. I tried not to be. But I didn’t know what that meant.
I actually googled how to be vulnerable. Insert eye roll here.
It took years, but I discovered.. Vulnerability.
To be able to be vulnerable, you have to know and accept you faults. ACCEPT your FAULTS.
Its not opening up to someone and praying they don’t judge you. its opening up to yourself and accepting you just the way you are.
When you accept yourself, allow yourself to be humble.Let go of your Ego. No one can touch you. Only when you love yourself, you stop needing others approval. you stop needing your own approval.
When you accept yourself, only then will you let another accept you.
Be with the one who has seen your darkness and loves you anyway
Be with the one you have pushed away a million time and still comes back.
Be with the one that loves you when your not at your best.
Be with the one who, refuses to let you go.
Be with the one who won’t give up on you, when you gave up on yourself.
Be with the one who know your soul, and makes it their life mission to fill it.
regardless of any thing, thats the one you should always choose.
Life is nothing but a journey.
I am always afraid of the destination.
Whats going to happen? will I be happy? It is hard to relax in the moment when you are continually planning the future outcome.
What is happy?
Is anyone perpetually happy?
But you have moments.
I was happy when I caught my first fish.
I was happy in moments with you.
Its not completing the “plan” that makes you happy.
Happiness is never, there to stay.
Embrace it when it happens and then let it move thru you, let it pass.
Happiness will come again. Is always does.
Happiness is a moment, and yes it will pass just like sorrow. You can’t live in it, but you can let it consume you, maybe just for a moment. And smile when its gone, because it happened.
Theres so much Beauty in the pain and uncertainty of life.
We are often too focused on it at the time to see it.
But step back for a moment and you’ll see it, the sliver of Glorious bruises that make you.
Enjoy the painful moments because they are what make you feel alive.