Leaves shake in the wind

As the rain pours on the forest floor below.

Water droplets soak the ground for growth.

Giving birth to new life

After storms and strife.

A fresh beginning, made from recent revision.

Sun parts through the clouds.

There's no more division.

A warm light now glows, giving view to a divine vision.

My soul now in remission.

It is time to make a very important decision.

To hold on, or go forth on the Hero's expedition.

Don the armour, be brave and bold.

Or stay back, let not the story be told.

To deny my heart, may leave me cold.

False stories I shall not be sold.

Behold, the guiding light, fire of my soul;
And through my example
Change how destiny unfolds.

It's weird. . .

The way humans shame those who can and do feel more deeply than them,

For having a more intensely experienced reality,

Just because they can't see it, hear it, feel it, then it must be

That we are just over-dramatic, that we are "making it up" . . .

Right?

But really, who's fault is it that you're still dead inside?

There's a pane of glass

Between me and the rest.

Inches thick and it feels like it

Thickens with age.

A growing television screen,

A window scene,

A phone in the dark that's glowing,

An imaginary distant dream

Leaving me on the outside.

A passerby,

A drifter,

Watching movies play as I continue my way.

And I watch and I watch,

I watch my life away.

If you love someone, then why is it hard to say it?

Why is it hard to tell them and count the ways they have somehow

Rooted themselves within you as your favorite person?

Quite a confusing conundrum.

Because in my head we live in world's unknown, and

I can bare the deep vulnerability that comes with the words.

I can say it, shout it, sing it, paint it, all in my own dream world.

Why couldn't I say it in depth, in description,

even if I lay on death bed?

The desperation that builds in my chest, in my throat, and sinks and wrenches my stomach until it sinks

Because I just want to tell you.

Yet, when it's time I go blank in mind.

Why?!

This makes me feel like I don't love you at all..

But that answer isn't right either..

I just hate that I am bad with words.

My own articulations are like hooks without bait.

And I cast and I cast and I cast my line

but yet, no words come to bite..

I'm just a stranded, confused girl, on a boat in the middle of the sea of love, ultimately at a loss with myself.

I'm sorry that I have never really been that good at fishing.