As I drift throughout fits of consciousness,
My soul flutters about the exposed space,
Its wings span out and glide gracefully.
Yet, so easily affected by nearing influences,
It instinctually dips low for a means of protection.
But when fear takes charge of its path,
Positives go undiscovered.
Perhaps fear debilitates reaping the potential warmth,
Another is radiating.
Maybe the individual’s soul is imbedded with good intentions.
Maybe the person’s heart is comprised of purity.
I am tempered by the fires of life's lessons
Some learned at my mothers knee
Other lessons I had to live thru
Part of me wishes I was still naive
Sometimes the heart of gold I strive for
Feels more like a shield made of steel
To keep out the pain of remembering
The lessons I was taught so well
Once in a while, it makes me smile
Because, I am just me
Not that shiny woman
I used to think I needed to be
That perfect woman made of fluff
Not a woman hardened by tenacity
I survived everything that I've been through
Not always knowing when to wait or when to run
Sometimes my hesitation
Made the pain linger on so long
Sometimes I ran much too quickly
Trying to avoid the hurts I thought was to come
The most hurtful regrets I have
The ones that still make me cry
Are the times
I should have stayed and fought for
What I knew was rightfully mine
I forgive everything....
That forgiveness will allow
I work so hard on forgivng myself....
I am working on it even now
The lessons life has taught me
Made me the woman that I am
I was tempered and molded
By my very own two hands
All in all
I am proud of how I am turning out
When I hear the name Abraham Lincoln,
the mental picture of a tall, lanky man,
with a weathered face comes to mind.
I think of Civil War, history class, and a scared man trying to hold a country together. And sometimes I think of that weird vampire slayer movie with Abe Lincoln, that I never saw but remember people talking about.
When I hear the name Moses... it occasionally is said very loudly and proceeded by Holy. But when I hear the name I think of an ancient man in robes with a walking stick, looking epically heroic with clear path of land in the sea spilt before him. It was so metal seeing that image in Sunday school. He looks so stoic, but on the inside I just imagine him internally screaming - "YEEEESSS!!!". If only he knew what was coming after that.
Anytime you hear a name, famous or not, some kind of image forms. When I think of my husband, I think of his smiling face and usually the last funny thing he said to me.
I have always wondered though, what image people see when they hear my name. What thoughts cross their mind when they hear, "Amy Irby"?
I almost always imagine its something bad or weird.
Like, "oh yeah that girl that croaked that one time she was singing."
Or "oh... that girl who is annoying with the resting bitch face?"
I don't know what people think about me.
I don't know what impression I have left on people, other than maybe I'm weird.
I'm loud sometimes and reserved other times. I'm always looking for a deep conversation with the wrong people.
I tend to let my anxiety get the best of me when things are tough.
I try but I get overwhelmed.
Other times I'm tough as steel.
Sometimes when people hear my name, I believe they are thinking "flaky bitch..."
"She can't get her life together. Why did she drop out of school so many times? This last time, was cuz of her wedding? Grow up and learn time management..."
And I know I can't tell a room full of people that, no it wasn't cuz of my wedding. I was having anxiety about everything in life. I was having daily panic attacks and couldn't leave my home; sometimes even my bedroom.
I have this self-deprecating inner monologue going through my head when I hear my name. I'm that paranoid... and care way too much about what people think.
I don't know, why...
Maybe cuz I was told your name should mean something growing up.
Maybe because I am not the person I thought I would be and my name doesn't sound right yet. Maybe I'm not what my father wanted me to be, so my name sounds like "disappointment". Maybe, cuz I'm not good at making casual friends, I just hear "lonely freak".
The unknown future terrifies me so I hear "failure" alot of the times.
All I know is that the sound of my name bothers me.
Not all of the time, but mostly... and I don't know if that is ok or not.
Maybe it is, and maybe one day when I hear my name I will hear it stand for something.
I believe if my name just stands for me, it will mean nothing to me.
If my name means just me,
It will mean my flaws,
my disfigured future,
and my contorted perception of myself.
I want more than that for my name.
I want to hear my name and think, "she is ok". Amy Irby is a giver, not a taker.
She isn't a lonely introvert, but a friendly introvert.
She didn't change herself, but she became the best version of herself.
When people hear my name, I want them to think, "loving", "helpful", "selfless", "positive", "the liver of a full life that keeps giving and won't stop". I want them to hear good wife, caring sister, loving daughter. I want my name to mean overcomer, thriver, denier of doubt and haunting pasts. Forgiver, friend, and trustworthy.
I don't know what my name means or sounds like right now. I just slowly want to rewrite the dictionaries, and rerecord the tracks under my name and write something new. Write something that will leave a smile on people's faces and leave me satisfied, even if some people think it's lacking. I want to hear my name and not care what it means to others because I know I did my best to give it meaning. I don't know what I mean right now, but I hope one day I will.
She must have been God's perfect gift to me.
Too young and screwed it up.
She was that kind of woman that you meet too early in your life.
testing, if you are willing to give up your illusion of happiness for what is truly bliss.
She is this Majestic, esoteric, breeze that enters your life in a blur.
She would make you learn how to feel and give life meaning,
but can swiftly exit without warning if you choose to screw it up.
Why I write the way I do,
Depression poetry is what I do;
No need to fear on what I am going through,
It's just a way of expression.
To write something down upon paper,
To move around with a pen,
Words form into sentences;
As they form into a story.
Hearing and seeing all,
Observing the environment,
People watching where ever I go,
Turns into poetry.
Learning of other's stories,
Trying to make sense of them,
Seeing what I can do,
As I turned them into poetry.
I am an observer,
Listens to my surroundings,
So I can turn life into poetry.
With a touch, you chill my skin,
And with your smile I feel a warmth within,
But some of your words, they turn me to stone,
And with some of my thoughts, I am alone.
I wish not to hurt you, by vocalizing the situations in my mind,
Cause I know what I think is far from truth, most of the time.
That doesn't mean I don't ponder my insecurities,
That doesn't mean I don't slip in and out of emotional flurries.
I am wrong to believe in all of my thoughts,
But I am not wrong to have them.
Don't tell me I'm wrong for having them.