My day is already rolling before I fully awake. I drag myself to the place, with slippers on my feet and bed hair over my face. The police officer asks me if everything is alright, and I put my hands in the pockets of my robe and stretch my arms as I shrug, "Everything's just fine, sir." There is a curious window on the other side of a shrub that I manage to bring myself to. It is a beautiful little window, far more ornate than one would expect on such a drab building. I step on the bucket and pull my eyes up to the ledge of the sill. When my eyes gain focus through the glass I see things that I was not meant to see. Things I can't un-see. And those in the scene that I have seen see me seeing them and they run for a door. I jump down and dash to the shrub, throwing myself haphazardly over the top and landing on a row of trash cans. I pull myself up from my wreck, and walk casual. "It appears I've lost a slipper," I whisper as I walk, with an eye tracking my bare foot. The officer sees me again and says "are you sure you're okay?" I nod with exaggeration and say, "Yes, I'm fine," and to put his mind at ease, "I'm a writer."
The crackling radio blasted green day through the kitchen as the light of the morning sun crept through the window spilling onto the checkered floor tiles. Dragging herself out the door, a tired mother of 3, sat on a bench in her garden as she watched her two sons squabble over whose football was best. Her only daughter was curled up in a den made of old blankets with her curious eyes fixated on the first Harry Potter novel. The den had fairy lights woven beween the wooden poles which kept it's structure. Her mum walked over the dewy grass with bare feet and as she saw her daughter, her eyes filled with love and she whispered good morning.
i change myself and lie, i bite my tongue and only say what they want me to say to fit the standards i have assumed are normal and i cant blame society because im a part of society, the thing is im losing my real self, its odd i dont know who i am anymore, i cant tell the difference between a the truth and the lies, im becoming just another robotic human. sometimes i look back to when i was young and i catch glimpses of myself but that person is buried deep down underneath insecurities and regret. if i could go back and start again maybe i could stay true to myself or at least keep my soul because it is so very lost and i miss it terribly
I met a lady last night that told me stories of how her fourteen year old granddaughter thought she was "in love." As I began to giggle at the silly little things she would say about this situation, I began to see myself in them as well. When she stopped talking, I told her how I used to think I was in love back at that age too. I recalled the moments, even in middle school, when I believed I was in true love. Then the moments in high school when I was convinced that i was going to move five hours away from my family to be with the man of my dreams. I remembered all the silly little promises I made back then, all the whispered "I love you's" at the end of late night phone conversations. I remembered all the highs of being "in love" so young. And then I finally remembered all the heartbreak that followed. I remembered realizing for the first time that I didn't want to uproot my whole life for this man so far away. I remember the moment that I finally understood that true love wasn't supposed to hurt that bad and true love wasn't supposed to break me. I remembered that morning in church that I could barely even breathe. I remembered it all. And last night, I prayed to God that this lady's granddaughter didn't have to go through nearly as much heartbreak as I did. I prayed that when true love comes, she would recognize it. And when love shows up, it would be exactly how she has always imagined it.
i remember sitting in the car on my way home when i was a kid and watching the night cloak the town. The moon appeared vivid and whole, and i couldn't help but wonder why he appeared brightest at the worlds darkest hour. Toying with the thought, i noticed the moon was following me home and i wondered that perhaps he only came up at night to keep the stars from feeling lonely because on that night when my soul was lost and alone in the darkness, the moon kept me company and guided me back home.