The Why

We talked and you said you heard.
I told you what I didn't like.
We had a great night.
But you chose anyway.

You chose a vice over us.
Was it worth it?
Was your high worth the disappountment?
Because it wasnt to us.

I no longer worry about other opinions.
I tried to protect you but no longer.
Your choices are your own.
As are ours.

Decide whats most important.
We may or may not be here in the end.

The Edge

In life we walk.
We choose our own paths.
There are times the path is clear,
And times we must clear our own.

Decisions.
They are so difficult to make.
Because what if you're wrong?
What if you are lead to a cliff?

Then what?

I have making my way down those paths.
All leading to a cliff.
One that there would be no coming back from.
It terrified me.

I stood there so many times.
Looking over, wondering.
Do I go back and find another way?
Or do I jump?

I have processed and pondered.
Imagined and wondered.
Dreamt about and longed for
That edge. That jump.

One day something made me stop
I turned to look back
It was a single gesture, a single moment
With intense relief, I walked away from the edge.

Practicing Life

Practicing Life

Each day I find myself in a sort of haze; a routine of movement.

A stagnancy that at times drags me down with its weight.


The trees seem as gray as the streets and the light in the sky is harsh.

Conversation is being spoken but I hear very little. I have retreated.


There is a hole inside of me, a deep dark abyss that I fight daily.


The gravity of life pulls and I am weakened from the adiposity.


The soft breeze turns to dust and I want to run away.

Mourning is not an option, I yearn to find the light.

Each day brings distractions that cannot be ignored.


A question, an assignment, an anxious child, one that thought she was big enough...they all take presedence over my choice.


My life.


I talk, I fuss, they ask, they presume, they say things.


I allow them to make me feel less than.


I am the one who decides.

Yet I let them.

Why am I so afraid of taking on my own life?

I honestly just want to be me.


All me.


The good the bad, the serious the funny, the writer with crazy dreams and thoughts, the girl who has so many parts, so much depth, so open to what is around her. So sensitive to every emotion and vulnerability.


The one who has within her all of the things I need and a lot of what others need.

I know that but I'm afraid to show it.

I don't want anyone to think I am boastful.


I just want to be the girl I was supposed to be.

Me.


Still, the one I want everyone to like.


But what if they don't?

What if they laugh at me or question my motives?

What if I am not the person I expected to be?

What if...

That is why I practice life.

Rather than truly live it.