Izzy

POETRY:

Not Just Another Love Story

POETRY:

POETRY:

You receive what you give. The energy that I am putting out into the world is being returned to me. And now I understand it. When I stopped playing a victim, I felt the loneliness....because misery loves company. And when you start to speak more positively, suddenly your opinion is less valued....because it is not accommodating to perception and depression. However, once you find peace in that loneliness, it begins to feel less lonely. You can see outside of yourself. I don't get angry like I used to and I can better serve because I see from a different perspective. They are not reflecting to me my inability, but their own and I can steer that in a direction of solution or frustration. I can think on it or let it be a fleeting thought. And why bother myself with one word spoken out of anger, when there were so many more words in the day spoken of love. Change what you value and the rest will follow. I do not feel branded by others opinions of me, only by my effort to do what I believe good.

Do not buy fancy words when you resort to guessing my name after buying a vowel. You work only as hard as one advance will give. But why stop at the introduction? For round and round the wheel of fortune turns and lays in wait, of one who likes to gamble toying with their waited fate. If chance may take some pity on the fool who raised the stakes, the lesson chance will teach is simply one left for debate.

"Who are you?", he said.

I found my soulmate. But it was at a time when I was broken...and I made him broken fixing myself when I walked away. And forever I am left watching him live his life without me knowing it'll never be me. But I'd never ask for more. I love him enough to let him find happiness somewhere else. Because regardless the time that passes, I'm still the reason he broke and theres no fixing that.

It is a privilege to learn and grow in yourself and take responsibility in your own happiness. It is an honor to honor yourself by feeding into yourself and doing things that keep the inspiration and motivation alive. It is no one else's job to help you fulfill your aspirations. They can cheer you on but they do not get the honor of being you. So take pride in your journey of growth. It is beautiful.

The enlightenment was a turning point. A time in history that challenged belief, but brought Unity where there was no similarity. While way of life, culture, and livelihood were different; there was a similarity that will reign true always....We are all human. And in finding what makes us the same allowed compassion, humility, and patience. It was not devious, envious, nor malice. Because obstacle is known to all. But the choice of sharing food from one's table, or the shirt off a back....that was Love. And one cannot love without realizing that while sin is unrestrained, still unification was chosen. Not by officials, but by the people. The day the Sheep realized the difference between the wolf and the shepherd.

Enlightenment is found in the marrow of her bones, as if the universe knew one day she would find it. Like clues in a game of Scavenging she would be the Arthur to pull the sword from the stone. And nature waited for it to be her turn. In fact a tree was born on the day she was, growing just as she, waiting to witness. Always she has been looked after and guided.

I know it is a two way street. But I am soo tired of fighting....I'm soo tired of fighting for you. I'm tired of accusations and words that cut deeper than swords. A sword that settles in the ribs of this stone....what man or being could possibly free it? I'm exhausted, my eyes wish only for sleep instead of tears. I just can't do it anymore. My motivation sinks....like an anchor I'm drowning but I can't stop. The momentum thrusts me downward and I've long lost the hopefulness that one day I will breathe again. A glint of sunlight on the top of the water....a chill of death swims towards me....how much longer do I hold my breath....before the burning in my chest loses its fire....don't....let....go....

I've come to the realization that this part of my journey is to be done alone. I've begrudgingly allowed it to be, instead of willing away the inevitability. It is lonely....when you're truly alone it is soo lonely. When goodbye wasn't said but it was felt. Like a book you never get to finish. One that you keep filling the next page with words only to rip the page out, crumple it up and start again. But the words are never right. The worst case of writer's block is finding the words to write, I don't belong here anymore, but in a poetically beautiful way. In a way that it feels like peace and not a consuming fire. Yet I am set ablaze, desperately searching, running for cover, praying for rain, screaming for someone to see me.....but none come. No one aids me. My tears are the only element capable of putting out the fire. What is left? Is it me? Is it remnants of you? One by one would have been excruciating, but lose them all at once, can my heart even bare it? A season of silence is what I was ordered...I guess I didn't take it seriously enough. For now it is demanded and consequence sets the prices....ones I can't pay. This isn't home anymore. Or was it ever really? But how it was bearable at one time. You were almost home......you were almost home to me.

My Hero

I want to find a refuge in your arms a type I don't find in mine. Not so that I can hide in them, but so I can see what your freedom looks and feels like so when it comes to my turn I can share in your freedom too. That when I walk the border of your heart like I balance the wooden barrier of a path, that I can laugh as I almost topple as you hold my hand to keep me Steady. Because your path is not mine and mine is not yours to fulfill; but I will find every stepping stone that allows my path to cross with yours. Like The Ground is Lava, I'll tiptoe to your side and coax you back to mine. And just like that, I fell in love. I fell in love with how I love and how you love. Both so different but both the best story of love to read. And how sweet it would be that the author would entangle our story together letting your name be a taste on my tongue for a little bit longer. Just hold me tight like tomorrow I won't see your name in the next chapter, because while love is beautiful, it hurts too. But it doesn't hurt of bitterness anymore, it hurts of compassion. And I hope that if I suffocate your love, that you leave and find your breath among the wind again and follow it. But never forget my name because it was sweetest when it came from your lips. And how I never hated the word anymore that represented me, the word you present when you first become acquainted and the last one I'll say at the end of, "I love you...", when you leave because while fleeting, my love for you will live on in the marks of the universe and in the Ink of the Author's pen. And maybe, just maybe, one day he'll write us together again.

I don't want to change to fit a mold that is beneficial for you....and I cant expect you to change to fit mine. We either fit or we don't. You can't force what isn't. So when choosing your partner, don't choose thinking; if in the future they change.... Think, if in the future they never do and they are the same person they are today, can I live with that?

I thought the drinks put the demons to sleep, But they slipped the strings around my intoxicated appendages. What a show they put on at my expense, And at the expense of my paycheck. I paid admission for the audience, And became the jester of my reputation.