Flushed with anticipation and a bit of agony,
she leapt from the treetops and out into the sea.

The waves crashed down upon her, expecting to suffocate her
as they had done so easily with her predecessors.

Alas, she parted the waves in an almost biblical fashion. She built her boat out of thin air and rode away to the sunset.

Destiny was today, fear was tomorrow, and failure was embraced like never before.

She was a force to be reckoned with and a mind to be revered.

She opened her journal and for the first time in a long time,
she wrote happy words.

She told stories of freedom from the chains and weights bearing down on her for so long.

She spun tales of a new life she'd never thought she'd be worthy enough to have.

Long ago, she'd stopped dreaming. Stopped her side glances in the mirror because looking at a person she didn't recognize just proved too much to bear.

Long ago she'd given up hope of every being worthy of anyone else, she'd given up hope of a relationship that didn't end in resentment,

but that was before she met her.

Her eyes were greener than the depths of the sea that churned against the shores of their favorite place.

Her laugh, thunderous, beautiful, a force of nature strong enough to move mountains.

Her lips, soft, inviting, loving with zero expectation except to be loved in return.

She was a welcome reprieve for the chaos in my brain, an oasis of love in a drought of madness.

She taught me that love didn't always come with a price tag or a hand around my neck.

She made feel safer than I'd ever felt in my entire existence.

Long ago, I thought love was phantom of my imagination.

I thought love was for the weak and disillusioned.

Long ago, I was lonely.

Until I met her.

The cracks in her palms told a lifetime of stories.
The bags under her eyes spoke of a world of worry.

You could say she was weak, but she grew in multitudes when it came to her inner voice.

That little thing in the back of your mind, that tells you what's right and wrong? She had a difficult relationship with that.

She...I mean...I was confrontational. I was naive, younger than I am now, sadder than I am now. Angry at the world in a way no child ever should be.

I grew, changed, back tracked, and fast forwarded, through some of the best and worst times of my life. All for what?

Money? Stability? Power?

I wasted a lifetime wanting things I never bothered to wonder why I wanted them in the first place.

What does money really buy you once you've spent it all on worthless trinkets?

What's stability with no one to share it with?

What's power but a faint illusion of control?

She...I mean I...have spent entire eternity in denial....

and for what...happiness?

I couldn't tell you what happiness was if it caressed me with one hand and beat me with the other.

A message to my former self....stop, smell the ******* roses before you let them wither.

Love yourself before you drive your mind to insanity.

Don't give up the rest of your life to a cause that's not worth fighting for...for a dream..you don't believe in.

Let me give you some hard advice kid.

Capitalism is a regime, control is an illusion, and money is the Devil's play thing.

A message to my former self.

Stop.

While you still can.

Pick your head up darling, your crown's falling.
She'd say as she sucker punched me in the gut again.

God, your eyes shine brighter than the brightest stars in the whole ******* galaxy.
She say'd as she slapped me across the face for the eighth time that night.

Baby there's no one like you...

But baby I love you...

But baby everything is gonna okay..

I'm not your ******* baby.

I'm a girl that should be able to stand on her own.

I'm a kid with ****** up issues thinking the only form of love was a hand around my throat.

I'm not your baby anymore but baby....please love me.

Just one more time.

She was young, when they came in the middle of the night. The captors like villains in a fairytale, overwhelmingly one dimensional.

Her captors were Fate and Destiny. Fate was deadpan, zero sense of humor. Seriously, the girl was a bit of a bore. Destiny on the other hand, was the most handsome woman she'd ever laid eyes on.

With a grand flourish, Destiny pulled back the curtains of her old life and let her glance from afar at a new world of possibilities. Destiny told her it could all become reality, if she was willing to pay the price.

Fate on the other hand was more practical. She sat her down and gave her a pragmatic view of what was to come of the future.

The dullness, the suffocating sense of safety, the lack of fulfillment, the inevitable slow death. Fate was honest...and she could respect that.

But Destiny, oh so tempting, continued on. She painted a picture of ambition, true love, fascinating people, happy memories, and a peaceful end to a truly magnificent life.

Destiny reminded her of someone she knew. A girl she forgot long ago when she decided that looking in the mirror proved too difficult to bare.

Destiny smelled of the future while Fate reeked of home.

So, Destiny asked, are you willing to pay the price? To give up everything you know, everyone you think you love, all to take a chance with me?

Did she realize what she was asking? The levity of the question at hand? What would people say? That she'd run off in the middle of the night in search of the stars? That she'd died searching for a life that didn't exist.

Destiny paused...time's running out my dear.....make a choice.

Fate implored her to reconsider, a life lived in the shadows was still a life lived. A life in mourning of a future you'll never have was still a life of stability.

The girl turned, shook her head at her captors, and ran past them leaping straight into the depths of the darkness.

With a thunderous cry, she realized that she had flown straight past the stars, away from her captors, away from Fate and Destiny. Determined to make her own choices.

Because there's no way in hell she'd allow her story to be prewritten by one dimensional, delusional, villains.

She not only shattered the glass ceiling, she killed her captors with the glass.

The little shards left from the explosion expertly found their way into the hearts of every founding member of the patriarchy.

To every founding member that ever dared to doubt her.

The glass shuddered against her bare feet, cowering at her power. Her invincibility finally replacing her invisibility.

There she was in all her glory, present at all the board meeting, head CEO in a field where women where secretaries and mothers. There she was, finally on her own. If we didn't count the few dead bodies in the room.

"Brutal"...she thought. That life had forced a seemingly sweet woman to shed her "natural" loving instructs in lieu of such violence.

Little did they understand, she'd never known love in the first place.

There's an age old story. A tale as old as time.
A feeling I can't quite muster, a voice that's not quite mine.

I've grown a lot this year, felt a lot this year, slept a lot this year, ****** a lot this year. Needless to say....it's been one hell of a 365 days.

This poem is a  stray from tradition, it lacks rhythm, flow, but ******* it it's written of my own volition.

I've earned that right, finally making my voice heard, learning how to fight. I've lost a battle or two, don't get me wrong.

But I still raise my head, every round for the gong. I get back up, throwing punches until I see stars.

Fighting with mad love and ambition, even if it kills my heart.

What's more important? A sane mind or a sense of place? What's scarier? Losing yourself or fighting demons you can't face?

There's a lack of attention that consumes my thoughts. There's feelings of self hatred, despite finally being on top.

That's the funny thing about thinking you've made it. The only person you have to best is yourself. The only person you have to let down, is every single person you've every helped.

That's the fear for me. Never finding happiness. Enough never really being enough.

Time being an illusion that slips away and before I know it, my legacy is just a disillusion.

I've had this dream on repeat. I'm lying in a casket, looking ghastly in defeat. Death and I have become one, finally giving that ever so cherished encore to a dance we've swung too many times before.

It's lonely here in the dark. Colder than I thought. Sweeter than I imagined.

Peaceful....yeah, peaceful.