Wednesday, March 22, 2017

Wednesday, March 15, 2017


Maia Kirchkheli

I wear a mask.
All day.
Every day.

There are different sides.
One is who you want me to be but also who I want to be.
The other is who you don't know and are afraid of - as am I.

They reveal themselves; at times, simultaneously.
How would you recognize me?
How do I recognize myself?

The carefree side I love the most; she understands who I wish to be.
The discomfiture feeds the depths of what isn't whole.
I both love it and loathe it.

The mask serves its purpose yet fails at times.
I scream behind it hoping you, someone, anyone will hear.
At times I am silent and accept. And observe.

I see more than you know. The roots of the mask are deep.
I notice what you don't; yet I feign ignorance.
Because mirrors aren't always welcome if someone is holding it.

Nor are they always welcome upon your own inspection.
Not because you scrutinize the physical, but rather you dive into the depths.
The cold dark drowning depths that haunt you.

The mask holds both light and dark.
You see predominately what I want you to see.
But there are days or moments when I am unsure of who I am.

Those days, the mask governs it's showing. I do not.
I can only let what it reveals lead the moment.
I don't know who you see.

Most of my days are this.
If I can't be my own true self, how do you know me?
How do you know who Rachelle really is?

An affliction that troubles me at any given moment.
At every given moment.

“No man, for any considerable period, can wear one face to himself and another to the multitude, without finally getting bewildered as to which may be the true.” 
― Nathaniel Hawthorne

Tuesday, February 14, 2017


Most eyes see superficially.
As long as the sight is reticent of personal acceptance.
The sights that favor your opinion are lighted with softened hues.
Self-admiration and muted colors are hung throughout your mind.

The cloudless grey dons on your walls.
A sad peeling paint flakes with every touch.
The bareness revealed as each flake dusts the floor.
They stir long laden dust like smog at sunset.
Each step wades deeper and deeper.
Until you are no longer able to breathe pure air.

How it must feel to move through life that way.
Somehow you are unable to recognize the sepia.
Your sun doesn't drip from leaves after rain.
The acidity slowly dissolves all color.


Those eyes that see consonance.
What they see are consummate acceptance.
The sights that favor acceptance are lighted with wondrous hues.
Humanitarian and vibrant colors are hung throughout your mind.

The reverberating aquamarine dons your walls.
A soft yellow brightens with every touch.
The loveliness revealed as each sun ray caresses the floor.
Stirring up tiny luminous fairies to float around your thoughts.
Each step feels lighter and lighter.
Until you are only able to breathe pure air.

How it must feel to move through life this way.
You easily notice the omniscient spectrum.
Sunlight bathes your surroundings in diamonds after a rain.
The colors slowly efflorescent the darkness in your heart


Tuesday, February 7, 2017


There is time.
In every direction we turn, time will meet our gaze.
With every decision we make, time will tell..

You find a voice and you speak.
A thought may begin a revolution.
A sunrise just might spark a return.

The song you hear just when you need to.
The lyrics hit you within such an internal hurt.
You say nothing because the pain is too much.
The words you want to hear simply echo out of reach.

When your life is on the line, why do you stay silent?
Why do you spit hateful words?
You know you want what could be yours.
You know you want to love us.

A spirit mocks you. The demon speaks for you.
The face you see in the mirror is not yours.
The drink in your hand does not hold your life.
It only holds heartbreak.

Sing your song elsewhere. Sing for what you need.
Otherwise you only find a common factor.
The habitual anticlimax that is your word.
The perpetual affirmation that I am good enough.
 Are you?
Am I?

Perhaps I am not meant to be in this moment.
Maybe I am the thing you wanted but you forgot to hold on to.
Maybe you are the thing I wanted but I can't seem to see I have already have.
People grow - sometimes together, sometimes apart.

All people change. All people find themselves as strangers.
Whether to themselves or with others.
Whom do you choose?
Who makes the cut? Do you feel you can?

What would happen if we both make the cut?
What if we decide that we truly love each other and no one else matters?
Can you do that?
Can you show me that you love me?


Sunday, February 5, 2017

Do You?

Thoughts run through my mind and long to fill pages.
I need words like others need air.
Days go by yet words aren't written.
Failure to create is like withered breath.
Expression is daunting.
It is revealing.
It warrants your time.
Do I continue?
Do you want to hear me?

Darkness and Light

The world is wonder and light,
Though with its share of dark.
We see what we want to see.
I'm trying, no struggling to focus
On all that is lovely.
That dark though, it's a heavy weight.
I carry it like a sinker on a line.
How I pray that I notice the sun.
And all of the beauty it enlightens.
Every day.

And even in the night,
I pray the moon helps me remember 
That there is constant light,
that I am not drowning and
I can always surface 
and breathe in life 
whenever I need it...

Sunday, January 29, 2017

A Good Place

Sometimes in life you find yourself in a place where you feel torn.
A place that you want yet you shouldn't...according to others who know best.
They say paths should always go one way and you shouldn't stray should you find trouble.
I have never followed that path. Even as a child; shown a trusted path in shared faith I questioned.
How could one way be the right way when so many others took a different path?
How could one ideal blanket all the others as correct?
And now? How can two people so different be made to say we should remain as we were 20 years prior?
People change. Faiths change. Beliefs change.
All of this is okay.
We should never apologize for changing nor should we apologize for who we are.
We are brought into life and we bring life into the world.
Never should we state how those we love or others should believe/feel/live.
Ever. Let them find their way.
Your God has made this possible right?

Life gets hard as do relationships. Some survive, others do not.
We make things work or we don't.
We accept others or we don't.
Choosing to change others rather than change our own thoughts.
Acceptance is how life becomes difficult.
Choosing to blame others for what you are guilty of rather than looking in the mirror is how things fail.

I have things that I don't feel like I can or should share, though I desperately want to.
Who would understand?
Who feels what you feel?
How could they?
Yet you have one who does.
Hang on to that person with all of your might.
They keep you on Earth and make you feel heard.
Whether a lover or a friend - hang on.

I found that if you reach for those who have been there and known you the best; they will reach back. With open arms They will hear you and accept you.
After all, isn't that the VERY thing you've always wanted?
To be heard and accepted?
That is what love is right? Accepted?

That is a good place isn't it?
To be heard, accepted, and loved?
Even if that means it is you alone?
That is where your good place begins isn't it?

Somewhere Inside

  • I keep all of Sophie's drawings.
  • The cleaning bug doesn't usually bite me but when it does it is usually all out. I go overboard.
  • I love things that touch my heart.
  • I love a good heart wrenching book or movie.
  • I believe in fairy tales.
  • I wish I could let go of all of my insecurities and live completely free.
  • I feel like I get on people's nerves.
  • I want to be noticed but I don't like attention.
  • I have trouble sleeping - too many thoughts and fears.
  • Music makes my soul feel free.
  • I can be terribly stubborn.
  • I can be judgemental
  • Mountains make me happy.
  • I secretly wish I could afford to focus my energy on some type of art and my family, not a "job".
  • I often feel out of place or irrelevant.
  • I enjoy detail specific activities.
  • Sophie can make me the happiest person in the world and break my heart so completely - all in the same instant.
  • Chris can do the same thing.
  • I can read a day away.
  • Friendships are hard for me.
  • Philosophy intrigues me.
  • I love Willie Wonka.
  • I fear early death.
  • I wish my mother could be here.