Dearest reader, whomever you might be at this stage, welcome to another whispered ramblings. The last one of these posts I wrote was from October 2020, I am the lost and found. That feels like a lifetime ago, but it is probably more like five.
I haven’t written properly in quite a while, but this one slipped right out from my naked fingertips. If you like order or clear and concise tales, maybe you should look away, as I am not sure where this one is going.
Dreading the mornings, I no longer open my eyes wide. Reality is a perilous slope. If I squint hard enough, things might start to look up, the slope might start to shape up to be a hill I’m happy to die on.
This is me smiling with my eyes, no one’s gotta know what goes on behind my glasses.
But, I see you, the Light whispers to me. Feeling so small in this overwhelming world; one slowly devoured by the darkness.
The night is scary, but you have learned that you cannot see the stars if the sun is out, you cannot hear the moon if the darkness is asleep. Down here, you need the stars to navigate.
Don’t be scared of the darkness, it is not an enemy, but the conduit for the fire within thee.
Hold It tight, let it sing, but don’t let just anybody see It.
No one needs your friendship, your company, like She does.
I don’t think the Light is scared of the Darkness. I am not sure that the storm is there to hurt me. I don’t know why my fears make me feel so calm. In fact, I do not know much about anything, certainly not myself.
Some storms seem to never end, but when She holds my hand, I can see the end. I have seen many endings already, but She taught me that fear has no part of me. I consume it as a fuel; it cannot hurt me, it’s only food.
The Light has made me very aware of this heart of mine. A heart only made to be taken apart. A heart not mine to keep — my heart.
I do not think that the pain has a purpose nor is it necessary to grow or simply exist, but it is inevitable. I used to wonder: if my heart holds all I love, what happens to this love when I feel it break and watch the pieces fade.
My heart may break and break again, but it seems to be the only way for me to let the Light in — through the cracks.
I am not a fragile vase desperately trying to keep my pieces together, I am a kintsugi work of art in the making.
These cavities in my teeth are only an open window to a brighter future.
Maybe my smile isn’t rotten after all.
Maybe the Light just tastes different when you decide to stop sucking on the cheap candy the strangers handed you on the streets.
A sensitive soul can only take so much hurt before it disintegrates, but I have seen the Light and against all odds, in all my spite, I will shield it and heal and love.
I will not be replaced by scar tissue,
I will close the door on the ones that do not make my heart sing
And love will never slide down my skin like oil on water.
I might lose hope and strength, but I will not stop healing.
When the woman my mother made becomes, once again, she will know that I loved her, and she will carry me to the finish line.