I Can’t & I Won’t

I can’t stop the yellowing of my fingers as much as I can’t stop the pessimism of my feelings.
I won’t accept that it is within my control to change and I will continue on with this feeling of being deranged.
Because sanity does not feel like something that is within my range to obtain.

I wake up and try optimism,
Just to sit down and be crushed by claustrophobia,
Caused by this desire for escapism,
And encouraged by my own phobia,
That this life could mean so much more,
If only I step up to allow it to…

But the strength it takes makes me weak,
And the persistence it requires makes me drag my feet,
As I seek to compete with the very image that provides my defeat —
An image of a woman who is strong and is in for the long haul,
Dedicated to a purpose and driven by nothing less,
With enough intelligence to know when to call it quits,
And accept that this life is what I make it.

But I don’t want to accept the progress,
And I hesitate to not applaud where I digressed,
In order to take the path that shouldn’t be traveled,
And dive into the thoughts that should not be harbored,
Because there is something in me that does not want to be free,
And there is something encouraging me to deny this ability.

I can’t stop this lack of motivation as much as I can’t deny my distraction.
I won’t accept this choice and I will continue to deny the sound of my own voice.
Because it is too much to bear and the disappointment I find in myself is leading to despair.

I go to sleep with a head full of pessimism,
Not allowing my thoughts to be a friend,
Encouraging everything to bring me down with the best of them,
And pouring my feeling of frustration out of this pen —

Because I never seem to change,
And I no longer claim it to be a mistake.
Since it is obvious that I chose to be estranged,
And this is what I was willing to take.

I accepted my defeat years ago,
And came to see that I am incomplete,
As long as there are secrets that I insist on keeping,
There are struggles that I continue reaping,
And thoughts that will prevent me from sleeping.

I can’t stop,
And I won’t accept,
Because this life is too much to expect.

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Sedentary Change

I am afraid of this moment —
When my pen hits the paper and I except words to flow out of me.
I am afraid that I won’t be able to follow through,
And I am afraid that I have nothing to offer of value.
I am worried that I will become distracted,
And that my words will not actually sink in.
Because I can’t seem to focus these days,
And I can’t seem to care about anything I pick up.
I want to want progress,
And I need to need busyness,
But is it really all serving me in the end?
This transformation process is frustrating and tedious,
And I am losing motivation to put my best foot forward.
I am losing faith that I have the strength to continue,
And I am becoming exhausted by my never ending task list.
I wake up every day and I am confused as to how I got here,
And I know that that confusion will only grow.
Because I know that this struggle is far from over.
And I know that there is no place for me to seek cover.
This is the path I am always destined to walk down.
I will always be looking for more.
And that is something I will never be able to ignore.
But I can feel that this struggle is real,
And it is challenging everything I thought I held dear.
It is making me question my place,
And leading me to hate my own face,
Because it is no longer one that I recognize,
And its look of confusion is leading me to despise,
All the thoughts that I could actually rise,
Above it all and never fall back,
To the place I regret ever being at all,
and the depths to which I know how to fall.
Because I despise that side of weakness,
And I am ashamed of this overwhelming sense of bleakness,
When I have so much opportunity placed in front of me,
And I refuse to be what it needs me to be.
Because I am weak and I am human,
And I’d rather die in this self-imposed gloom,
Then try to see the light in my escape,
And have faith in the moving on to a new place.
So today I am afraid of my pen,
But tomorrow will only repeat itself again,
If I continue to refuse to be open,
And accept that change is not an act of being broken,
But instead an opportunity to become outspoken,
A chance to change the person I am,
And a chance to begin again.
But I am afraid of that hope,
And I am afraid that this chance,
Will disappear as quickly and unexpectedly as it came,
And I will be left with nothing to retain,
Putting myself back at square one,
And wondering if this transformation is something that ever even begun.

Move Fast

I try to keep up, but I always seem to be falling behind my own life. I try to live in the moment, but there is something in me that will not allow it completely. I try to be excited about my accomplishments, but there is something in me that will not accept full credit for my actions. I wish that I could brag about what I have done and where I have been. I wish that I was the type of person who accepted more credit than they should receive and I want to boast about what I have experienced. I wish that I had a list of defense for when I am hypercritical and I need to remind myself that I have done much with my young life already. I wish that I could stand confidently in the knowledge of who I am and where I want to go.

Continue reading

A Glimpse of Myself

I’m moving too fast and can’t seem to slow down.
I’ve lost control in the best kind of way and I am running with the results.
I no longer recognize the person I appear to be and stare into the mirror looking for answers I will never be able to see.
Because my reflection doesn’t show the shift in my nature,
And I will not be able to see my change in value so shallowly.
My surface does not reflect the growth that I have been building for years,
And it cannot explain my change in personality.
I must look deeper than a mirror to see what is happening,
But I can’t seem to find the background that will properly illuminate my nature.
I don’t recognize the experiences that have changed me,
Because I am in denial that complete change is ever truly possibly.
I am cursed to forever see myself as that timid little girl,
The one who was never willing to speak her mind,
And shied away from any form of a spotlight,
The little girl who was afraid of everything and nothing,
Holding a never ending supply of dreams and thoughts,
Destined to rattle around in her head versus being expressed instead.
But I am no longer that little girl whether I like it or not,
And I cannot continue on with out stopping for the thought,
That I was never as cursed as I felt I might be,
And change and growth was always building within me.
I always possessed this side I do not recognize,
I just kept it buried deep inside —
Because I was afraid of the truth and I was terrified of my potential,
And I allowed my actions to instead be detrimental.
I cut myself down and I criticized my actions,
To point that nothing ever seemed worth practice,
Because I saw my potential for failure all along,
And never accepted anything less than perfection in my execution,
Leaving me to never recognize the progress I am still making.
It has left me wondering where I stand now and never seeing the steps I took to get here.
I abandoned myself years ago,
And now I am trying to recognize the person I have become,
I stare at this stranger in the mirror,
And I wonder where they have been all of these years.
Where did they come from?
And how did I not recognize their presence by my side?
When did they sneak up on me?
And when did I lose the person I once knew myself to be?
How did this all happen so quickly?
I am too concerned with other’s perceptions,
To the point that I can no longer claim my own reflection.
I recognize the body I am standing in,
And I am familiar with the way that it moves,
I know my voice when I speak,
But I also know that there are countless secrets that I keep.
And slowly and surely they are escaping in confidence,
Piece by piece they are showing on my face,
Moment by moment I embody the pressure,
And thought after thought leads me to believe that this is for the better.
I am tired of the mask I have worn since my youth,
And I am ready to finally have the courage to speak my truth,
About this life and the experiences it has held for me,
And the person that I have always wanted to be —
One who is strong and confident,
And speaks with an air of intelligence,
One who is bold and never bashful,
And seeks out experiences that hold potential,
Someone who is proud of what they have accomplished,
Yet always has energy for more.
Because I no longer recognize that girl I once was,
And I want to find the person I will be someday,
But for today I will start with where I stand now,
And I will applaud myself for getting here somehow.

Thanks, But I’ll Pass

I missed the solar eclipse, and I seem to still be missing the point of this life. Planetary movement is supposed to bring change that is out of my control, but I am losing faith in trusting the inertia. I am losing faith in the fact that I am changing, but not in ways that are instantly satisfying. And am losing confidence in my efforts to bring change that I want into my life. I feel helpless and like it is being thrown at me lately versus inviting it in with welcome arms. I attempt to embrace that change and I tell myself that it is needed — I can feel in my bones that it is needed, and this time I am attempting to not fight it as best as I can. But still feel like a wave of change is crashing over me, drowning me in the unknown and suffocating me with my own blind faith in it. I feel like I am sitting on a beach, just having tsunami sized wave after wave hit me, but I can’t seem to move from my spot in the sand no matter how difficult it becomes to breathe. I feel stupid and overwhelmed, and most of all helpless to the change that I started and can no longer seem to handle. I smoke myself blinding through the trails and tribulations, and I consequently have a hard time remembering anything and feel like none of my actions are permanent. Every day I wake up and smoke a spliff, and every day I am hitting restart on the game that is my life. I can’t remember what I did yesterday and I can’t fathom what I am supposed to do today. I wake up perpetually tired and I go to sleep perpetually restless. I am overwhelmed by everything I have chosen to place in my life and I am reaching the point of surrendering to the pressure and slipping back to a state of indifference to get by. I asked for all of this and I initiated all of this change, but in the end I am afraid of what I have done and I am terrified of what I might have the capacity to do if I actually gave a fuck.

I Am No Longer Me

How do I know that I am happier than I was before?
And who can tell me that I have changed?
What is the sign I have been waiting for?
And how can I know that it was there all along?
Who said that this life is something that is in my control?
And what told me that it was time to move on?
How can I put this sensation into words?
And who will even listen if I do?
There is one answer that rings true,
And one thing that I have to do —
Not be you.
I need to not be complacent,
And I need to not follow in your footsteps,
I should not trust you,
And I should not deny me,
I cannot put this one out of sight,
And I cannot ignore my own mind.
This was building and forming for years in the making,
Leaving me now to do the remainder of the taking.
I poured my heart into me,
And I dedicated my soul to the cause.
I struggled and strived,
And allowed pieces of me to die inside.
I hated myself,
And I sought escape from the pressure,
But what I found in that escape was something lesser,
Something smaller than what I had in mind,
And there was still something clawing at my insides.
I heard a voice in the back of my mind,
And for once I was so inclined to listen,
To the voices I knew so well —
The ones that formed my own prison.
They shit on my efforts and spit on my trials,
I heard doubt and abuse,
And it took years to cut those voices loose.
But once they cleared and I stopped the ringing in my ears,
I dared myself to listen.
I heard the fear of doubt,
And I recognized the things I wanted to shout,
I wanted to let it all go,
And I wanted to release into the flow of life,
To stop caring and finally give in,
And allow myself to succumb to the numbness within.
But there was a voice that grew louder in the back of my mind,
And a voice that I recognized as one of a kind,
It was the voice of my soul and the voice that cleared doubt,
It had the sound of confidence,
And spoke the language of defiance.
It started as a whisper and a question,
And grew in volume as I allowed the wrong thoughts in.
It yelled at me for the state of my health,
And asked me how I defined the status of wealth.
It questioned my detrimental reactions,
And wondered why I failed to ever gain traction.
It brought to light what I was denying myself,
And the shame that grew within only seemed to help.
I wanted to change and I wanted to listen,
It was just a matter of finally releasing myself from my own opinions.
But once I tasted that sky of potential,
And once I took a deep breath of acceptance,
I could not help but become the person I was destined to be —
I could not help but be passionate,
And I could not control my enthusiasm,
I could not stop talking about my dreams,
And I could not have more faith in the fact that nothing is as it seems.
Because I had not changed in looks,
And you could not notice a difference in the actions I took,
But I could not deny feeling it.
I could not help but start a new,
Because I knew the old me just would not do,
It would not serve the person I was meant to be,
And it could not save me from the things life had thrown at me.
I had to adapt and I had to change,
It was time to move on,
And if I didn’t I wouldn’t have survived for long,
Because I would have lost the sense of what it is to be me,
I would have failed to see all the things that I have the potential to be,
If only I was not me,
And I became everything I ever dreamed to be.

The Only Opinion That Matters

Today was the day he made her see that she had changed — for the better or worse was still to be determined, but she had indeed changed. There was a stark difference between the way she spent her time these days. She was out of the house constantly, would return home exhausted and smoke herself to sleep in order to wake up and do it all over again. She was raising her voice more often and visibly frustrated with whatever she experienced while she was away from home. She was packing suitcases and unpacking them again just to allow them to sit on her floor for a week and be packed up again. She was always tired yet always moving and she never seemed to stop and play fetch anymore.¬†She was finally moving again and she had finally admitted defeat to the strain of boredom. Continue reading

I Have So Many Questions

How did I get here?
And how did I not recognize that this was happening?
How could I stare down change with such denial?
And how could I not be prepared for this?
What was I looking for when I found this?
And why was I looking in the first place?
Who was searching with me?
And could anyone actually be searching for me?
Or was I always just searching?
And did I stumble into this?
Is this a fall or a step?
Did I mean to place my foot there?
Was there something greater calling my name?
And did I just refuse to listen?
Or is this that great calling?
Can this be the opening that I have been looking for?
And can the me I am at this moment be the one I was meant to be?
Who am I?
Where am I?
How did I get here?
And what do I do now?

As Easy As Breathing

You judge and criticize,
And watch and listen.
You wait your turn,
And you take every moment as a moment to learn.
You are not patient with progress,
And you have a hard time accepting failure.
But you accept that you are human,
And you accept that you are flawed.
You are becoming the woman I have always admired,
And you are patiently waiting for the old you to retire,
Because the old you that you used to know,
Was an echo of pain and suffering,
And someone who embraced her vices to the fullest,
One who left her mind, body, and soul remiss.
But there was always a hint of the person you were meant to be,
And there was always a hope that one day you would allow yourself to be free.
You clung tightly to the things that helped you breath,
And searched for hope in what appeared to be a sea,
Of trial and error and the nothing that could compare,
To the dream that you held diligently in your head,
And the possibility that you had stored beneath your bed,
For the day that would come and the moment you would be free,
And finally be the woman you had always hoped to see.
Today is that day,
And now is that time.
You have waited and suffered.
You have listened and learned.
You have accepted that now it’s finally your turn.
And you take a deep breath,
And inhale the strength you know you have,
And exhale the life that you always wanted to live.

Understanding Change

She was moving on without him and he was resentful about it. Perhaps “resentful” was a bit strong of a word for what he was feeling, maybe “jealous” described it better. It felt like resentment to her though and her reflexive guilt had kicked in in response. She could not help but move on with her life and she thought she had properly conveyed that to him with months of preparation leading up to this moment. But perhaps he never took the time to actually listen to her and perhaps he never paid attention to the silent progress she was making. Either way, he seemed baffled by this development of change and jealous that he had been left behind. And the feeling was mutual. She was baffled by the fact that he had not seen this coming and the lack of support that she was receiving from someone she considered to be her best friend. And although she had always been able to count on him as an understanding shoulder to lean on, this time it felt like that shoulder was slowly sliding out from beneath her. That shoulder that she had to learn to lean on in the first place now felt like it was pushing back against her and cursing her for her change in dependence. She was now leading the way once again as his younger sister and the one who always accidentally out-shined him, and the resentment of their youth reemerged to place a sour taste in each of their mouths. It was not her competition with him though that drove her to accomplish more, it was her uncompromising nature when it came to living life to the fullest that brought this out in her. And she wished that he understood that. She did not move on to and get another stable job because she had given up on their dream of opening a business together, she did it to make that dream more of a possibility. She had not abandoned him with work still to be done because she no longer cared about their dream, but rather because she knew that life continued on and they needed a way to survive until that dream came true. And she did not leave him to struggle through learning how to make sales on his own, but she did expect him to step up and learn the skill the way she had had to do. All she wanted from him was evidence that he actually cared about their dream too — because from where she was standing, she had been the only one actually working towards making their dream a reality for months now. She had put in hours of her free time to write a business plan and even more hours to test its legitimacy. She had forced herself to reach out to resources to learn more from others who had successfully done what she dreamed of, and naturally expected him to do the same. She had set an example of progress and development for him, yet she felt like he had failed to see any of it and discredited her for the months of work she had been dedicated to. And now when she was expected to carry on with life and when she needed him to pick up where she left off, she was left hanging. And it was hard for her not to resent that. It was hard for her to forgive his blatant disregard for her efforts and dedication, and it was difficult for her to understand why he was struggling. Because she had never been cut slack in her life and she had always worked for everything that was handed to her in life. She was not blessed with good luck or cursed with terrible luck, instead she relied upon her dedication to work and improvement to carry her on. And he failed to see that. He never said it out loud, but she sensed that he thought life had just been kinder to her and that she had found the easy way out. He never gave her credit for the shitty jobs she held to pay the bills and the sacrifices she made to serve the practical side of life. He never saw that she stifled her creativity and independence to humbly work positions beneath her, and how she never allowed that to diminish her self-worth. He did not see the days she struggled to find value in how she spent her time nor the days when she wanted to give up on it all. He naively thought that this came naturally to her, when she felt a struggle and resistance to live every day.
But there was one who saw it all, and he was the one closest to the man who frustrated her the most. But he was also the one who could never do anything about it. He provided support to each of them and reminded them of patience in moments of frustration, but he could never speak out and resolve the clear conflict that was disrupting his household. Instead he waited for his humans to finally see eye to eye, and until then he showed them each the love and attention they needed. And life carried on in the only way they knew possible, with forgiveness, understanding, strength, and a healthy dose of unbreakable puppy love.