allison

I don’t relish in the fact that I might make you cry.

I don’t enjoy knowing that I might be a reason for the pain in your life.

It must be done and I know that I can’t fix it without first making it destroyed.

Like a tree cracking in its trunk into a million shattered pieces.

Like a leaf, unable to seek ground.

the wind has a name. the birds call out in the night. when i hold you, i hold you closer than i should. how am i to know if i’d lose your tomorrow?

with my flowered hair and feathered mind, i called to you. with my breasts of gold sparkles and lips of scarlet touches, i beckoned you.

“come here” i said.

“i need you” I cried.

and yet, you tried to fix me.

like a puzzle with pieces that are too big or small. like a bird trapped in a gilded cage she can’t escape from.

but i never made sense to you, did i?

you never understood how the trees speak to me or how a kiss is an honor to hold like a star in one’s hand.

where i have a heart, you have an organ.

where i have a mind, you have flesh.

where i have a soul, you have empty space.

you could never fix me.

why did you try so hard?

you never understood me.

I want to live in an apartment in Paris. I want to live in a sailboat by the sea. Perhaps you want a house in the mountains that will always smell of yesterday’s tea.

I’ve never been to italy but I’d so like to go. Maybe you’d like to stay home and visit places you know.

Still...

Life is so short as it passes each day yet so long that we forget the prices we pay. We are guaranteed nothing but struggle strife, but still we move on into a next breath of life.

I want to do so much while I’ve still got time, yet I’d rather waste it finding a place that is mine.

But, what about those who aren’t given more than what they are born into? What about those who are gifted many more years than I, or you?

What about the mothers with babies that stopped crying to young or the singers who never let anyone hear the song they have sung.

Do we live for them? Do we strive to be them?

What is a good life after all?

I might find it in my sailboat or cottage. You might find it in the time that echos in solemn courage.

Perhaps that is what we shall hope for.

We shall hope for the long happiness they didn’t get before.

unadulterated, unmanipulated, unequivocal bliss.

it comes from finally feeling the love you knew you deserved this whole time.

it comes from becoming indifferent to those bruises that mark your body, and even being grateful for them.

it is found perfectly within yourself once you forgive but never forget.

bliss is being unapologetically proud of yourself for all you’ve accomplished and gone through.

bliss is laughing with your best friend until it hurts.

bliss is knowing yourself enough to know that no one else has to. and knowing that people will love you regardless.

broken you might be. and raining it might be.

barefoot she stood out into the desolate cold air that could float her away.

but did she want to float away?

away from the pain and suffering?

did she want to forget it all and live in a blissful ignorance?

she took both hands and reached up to the sky, almost touching the clouds.

these clouds rain, she thought.

these clouds bring thunderous storms and mountainous winds.

but they also shade us from the garish sun and bring a color into the blue.

and she become perfectly in love with clouds.

because she couldn’t change the past. she couldn’t take the hurt away. she couldn’t forget the anguish. but, she could look it in the face and decide to not fight against it.

for it is hard to fight someone who isn’t gonna fight back.

there she stood, barefoot, staring into the horizon.

and it was that moment that she decided to live. fully and completely live. and that is something no one can ever take away.

no one can take away your joy.

no one can take away your strength.

and no one can take away your love.

i was coming home in the rain as i was writing this.

but the roads felt slippery and unsafe.

my home felt slippery and unsafe.

every place i had loved once turned into a place of whispers and false smiles.

every fear i had was placed out front for every one to see and judge as if i was a circus act.

and i had been pushing these fears underneath my bed for so long that i didn’t know what my life would feel like once it was dug up again.

and suddenly my life was filled with past monsters and newly formed demons that would haunt me in my sleep.

some whose only desire was to see me bleed.

with their red eyes and piercing words, i believed them.

with their laughs of deceit of hugs of coldness i loved them.

but that isn’t love.

for i love the rain. and snow.

i love to watch the flowers grow.

and i love to watch this rain fall.

this rain continues and i continue to raise my hand to it.

people have a tendency to take and take and take from you until there is nothing left inside except an empty shell of a person.

people have a tendency to get angry at your happiness when they are filled with a furious self-loathing.

people have a tendency to accept everyone but themselves, while simultaneously ignoring your every last cry for help.

people have a tendency to break you down.

people have a tendency to fall.