a tidbit about me.

because people always say i'm quiet. as if it's a bad thing. as if i had nothing to offer, because i was too shy, too repressed, too isolated. sometimes, i need someone to see the me i see. see that i am just a girl who looks at the world sometimes through starry eyes and at others, through weathered and experienced eyes. 


sometimes, i need people to understand that though i am quiet, i have things to say. i have thoughts, such beautiful thoughts, and perhaps, that is why i am quiet. i am lost in the comforting sea of my own colors, visions, and recollections. 


it is a good place to be.

Disappointment.

Disappointment. It burns like acid down the throat, leaving a dry and bitter taste trailing behind it. 

Failure, too, feels like this to me. Like the after taste of something decidedly unpleasant and foul. I imagine it to be a slow, faded path, traveling leisurely, unknown to its host. It erodes at my insides, carves a beaten path, and wriggles itself into a niche. A niche that will never be gone, forever imprinted on my soul and conscience. I have recently felt this, like a parasite inside of me. It feeds on my sadness, my hard work, and my heart-- leaving nothing but the ruins of my perseverance in return. 


there are simply no lovely words. in fact, were i not now in a state of acceptance, i am sure i could think of some more words that are as blackened, disfigured, and as ugly as this feeling i feel now. to me, disappointment equals the loss of hard work, the loss of my sense of self and confidence. it means questioning who i am, should i be here, and ultimately- have i reached the end of my growth? is this my limit, my stopping point? can i push no further? have i reached my level of incompetence?

away from the sun.

At night, I run out from the house barefoot. I feel the cooling grass under my feet, slightly wet and dewy from the afternoon rains. I feel the damp soil of the earth beneath me, curling in between my toes. I feel rooted then, in this moment, with just me and the moon and the damp, damp earth. I imagine myself cocooned within a tree, wrapped in wispy twigs and the brittle old bark. Encased in the solid oak trunk, feeling more condensed as the number of rings of bark increases with age. The roots, thick and branching, reaching into the cooling earth for some relief from the balmy air of the night. I am bundled, nestled, held, nurtured -- away from the world in this one moment to myself. I can think clearly, I can see clearly, and I can feel without any boundaries. I often think I see the world through different eyes. When I see the stark oak in the expansive field, I do not imagine running freely in the grass. I picture myself as old as the tree, standing still and silent, through storm and tempest, through mother nature's wistful cries, through mother earth's sorrowful trembles. I am rooted, bound, and an innate part of the wondrous world.

The leaves, both green and gold, are reaching towards the sun, but I, I am always looking away from the sun. I much prefer the inside of my sturdy tree, cool and calm and collected.

open.

Open your arms, let the sun filter in

Like I would, like I would warm your heart

Let me entwine in your being, never far apart

Oh, my dear, open your soul, let me hold you from within

Open your ears, let the blue sky echo its sound

Like I would, like I would mouth words of love

See my light when underwater, the light that hits above

So my child, open your eyes, and see that I am all around

As you keep running forward, looking to the next moment,

Know that I am in the sound of your footsteps

In your running spirit, and

In every breath you take, it is I.