Made of Dust and Color

We wait and choke. We think and re-think, training and retraining ourselves, our mind, our spirit. We release a thousand years of societies conditioning. We sit alone and detox sin from our flesh or we may unify to feed each other what we can't feed ourselves. We all want a small taste of absolution.

And we wait. Meanwhile we sink. We feel the most alive as we are drowning in our own skin and starlight. Made of dust and color and magic from the universe so intense that it engulfs into a kaleidoscope of light and fire. Living a million years searching for anything that means something. Something that you and I can't find in material possessions or a strangers love. We seek, wandering, and yearning for a piece of our soul that has seemed to escape. A piece of our soul that seems to be in another world that we cannot enter. There we live, half alive. There we live in addiction and a need and want so great that we thirst a thirst that cannot be quenched. We are a dry well.

So we wait but we don't always suffer. As we search, we can find. As we knock the unimportant things off our list of regrets, we breathe. When we can finally stop being so damn scared maybe we can become whole again. Can you imagine? Dear friend, can you see it? I can see us. Fully alive, eyes wide open, and aware of every fiber of your body and soul. Electricity will finally burn at our fingertips, our feet will find gravity, our heart will be united with truth as it drips from our tongue like sweet lavender honey. Finally, we will know that our soul hasn't abandoned us but we have abandoned it. We will find it residing with the light, simply because a soul cannot thrive in darkness. So what has ever made us think that we could?

Maybe one day we will figure everything out. Or maybe we won't. Just maybe the latter would be best, because once we have the answers what else would we ever have to learn? Would our quest be over and our mark made? Maybe our questions are really one of God's unseen miracles.

Our Questionable Journey

Starting from square one, and listening to Taylor swift songs on the bathroom floor, I realized that I never stop growing. I never stop expanding. And I never stop doing. And as I grow, as I expand so does my writing. Everything that I write develops into this phenomenal spin and kaleidoscope of reality and hopes. And I have faith that it will find it's voice, that I will find my voice, and it will change something or someone standing still.

I am a Taurus. And contrary to widespread and popular beliefs I welcome change. I don't like it too much at once. I don't like the negative (but who does)? But altogether I do welcome it. Because change is adventure. Change is a new chapter. Change is possibilities. 

Once upon a time I wanted everything to stay the same. I even sang about it. But then how does one grow? Growth isn't always suppose to feel good. And like a child does with their own growing pains, we will whine at times, maybe shed a few tears surrounded with complaints. But in order to flourish and flower and reveal my true self then I will accept that. 

So, no. I don't write about the things that I did when I was fourteen and fifteen. Words intertwined with the memory of puppy love and a blue eyed boy. I don't write about the same things that I did when I was twenty. Songs of brown eyes now and an acceptance I have never quite found. I don't even write the same words down that I may have had just a few months ago because I'm not that same person. I'm not even the same person I was yesterday. Because even though everyone wants to tell you to grow up or that we will all understand some day, we never will. Because I am convinced we will never stop growing. Not until we're in the ground and fade into a quiet memory. And we will never understand what is impossible to the human mind because NOT understanding just may be the journey in life. And if we have it all figured out, if we have no more questions to ask, maybe that would be the saddest part of all. The very real end of a journey that no one else could take but us. 

Along with the changes in my writing. Along with the changes in my soul. I am also okay with the uncertain, ,with the inevitable, and with the questions that we carry with us always. And that is enough.

~Barefoot. Woven. Human~

Life. Visions. Seasons

The Simple Release

I haven't written in a while. I've been sitting, stagnant, unrelenting--- waterlogged. I've been just about as steady as dry sand in hurricane winds. But I think a lot. Quite a lot, actually. The words just never reach fingertip, which in turn, never reaches pen or page.

I've been thinking a lot about what's between dust and dust. I mean the present and now. Paused and eternal. fleeting and escapable all at the same impossible time. I've been dreaming of revelations and how to get there. What roads do I have to cross, people I have to hurt, tides I have to succumb to? And I've been widely seeking earth rattling visions.

I have realized that all the while, as this world passes and passes, as we are but a blink in the continuous space of time and reason, I have been dying to become all the while dying to be here. I've been dying--- and living all at the same breath taking time to the beat, that very same beat, that the rest of the world hears even if they never admit it.

Even if they will never know it.

I've been reading quotes and quotes and quotes and quotes and...

Reading, finding pieces of myself in another's thoughts and insights. In another's revelations that I thought were once my own. Reading---and knowing---that I am never alone.

Most importantly I have been feeling, acknowledging, and listening to the tugs, pulls, and cries of my very soul. It acts as if it tries to detach for only a moment. Oh, if only for just one, singular, solitaire moment to bow at the feet of it's Creator. For the soul, it will forever remember another time. A time before time that the world has erased from my mind and body.

But the soul knows. It knows the truth. It knows nothing but the light of it. The truth of ourselves, our God, the secrets of the universe that has been whispered inside of it. The truth is inside of us. Always. And it knows.

I cry with it's cries, my body selfishly tugging back.

Please. Please. Stay.

Tell me you listen to your souls. Tell me stories of commonalities and childhood games when everything was easier. Tell me they remember what this world wants us to forget. What society tells us doesn't matter anymore. What materialism and consumerism tells us that we don't really need in our lives. Wake up! Wake up. I dare you...

Tell me you recall the days.

For we are all in this together. Perfectly imperfect and not always fitting in. But that is okay. Every fiber, every shred of dignity, every heartbeat tells me that it's okay. Every human being from every single continent, every animal from the elephant to the whale, the wolf to the bear, all the way down to the smallest kitten that depends on bigger and better things than itself is connected and here and alive.

If you would just listen to the stillness and wonder for only a moment. If you would just hear what your soul is fighting daily to say. If we would just remember it would be so much easier to forget. Forgetting the things that never, really, ever even mattered anyways.

Surrender...

It's liberating and freeing. That one, dear, simple release.

We owe ourselves that.

Promise Me

Red gown in my bedroom,
Hair down, dancing,
Dancing... 
Trying to pull off a move,
We never could.
You bend down and kiss me,
And I can see it so clearly,
You're wild eyes are saying,
This is it,
This is it...

So promise me, you'll remember this night,
11 p.m making our own spotlight,
Laughing until both our ribs ache,
I'll never forget the look on your face,
Promise me...
Promise me...

Sunsets, a strong fire in the sky,
You're hand is locked in mine,
I never knew the good kind of hurt,
And it kind of hurt,
The way the fire burned,
We walk down the street,
And I, I can see,
Peach pink rays on my skin,
On my skin...

So promise me, you'll remember this time,
9 p.m, coloring outside the lines,
Laughing, wide eyes glowing bright,
Doing it so  wrong that it just feels right,
Promise me...
Promise me...

See me, red gown,
Hair down,
Because I see you...
I see you...
With your brown eyes,
A thousand favorite times.

 

Falling, falling...

I was afraid to close my eyes,
I was afraid that I would I...
Stop breathing...
The beat of my own heart shook like glass,
Everything made of gold turned to brass,
then spilling colors...

I took one step closer to the stars,
two steps away from my heart,
I marveled in my own mystery,
I only wanted to see what you could see,
In me.

I was afraid to break open my chest,
I was afraid of what could be hiding,
I looked at you and you seemed so calm,
You said "Sometimes the monsters aren't who you think they are."
You leave your own scars.

Long nights that ended too soon,
Everything, all roads led back to you,
Red lips, driving home at one a.m,
You were right about who I am,
Falling, falling to the edge,
Falling, falling like birds in the wind,
Am I crazy for thinking like this?
Sinking ships, yeah, sinking sand,
I sank...
I sank...
I sank...
To let you in.
To let you in... 

 

Glitter

Sitting in rounded porcelain, chest high with water, and Fleetwood Mac playing loudly from my playlist, I stretch my arms, and then my legs, looking at my toes down under the surface. The smell of coconut circulates through the air and the heat blows my home-made curtains on the window. I hold my breath and allow my body to slide down, down, down. My head breaks the surface, a humming fills my ears and I am gone. Energy buzzes, my lungs burn, but I lift my feet and press them down against the top of the tub, anchoring myself to the bottom under the water, under the noise, under the madness.

I watch as bubbles float to the surface and my lungs are screaming frantically. I can still hear the, now a slight hum, of Dreams and I can clearly feel my pulse racing, the blood flowing and pumping through every vein, circulating and feeding my very life. I can hear my heart beating. Beat...beat...beat...beating...

And why? To be a mermaid for a moment. To feel the air held tightly in my lungs, filled to capacity. To test myself, my strength. I do it to feel the world from this other side, to feel myself go crazy and to clear my mind all at the same time. I do it to hear the life in me. To know it's flowing through me still. And I know I'll be okay. I do it to think and to forget. I do it to remember and then release. I do it to renew and come clean again in more ways than one.

And when the burn in my chest is too much to bear. When I can't taste the air on my tongue anymore. When I crave more food for life, I break the surface again. And when I do I gulp in air like it's the only thing in this world that I need. I breathe it in, in such a beautiful, life forming, instinctual way. I inhale and choke. I inhale and need. I inhale and remember. I inhale...
I know I'm alive.

Then I do it again.

And I hear...



"For me, it's the only life that I've ever known
And love is only one, fine star away
Even though the living is sometimes laced with lies
It's alright, feeling remains even after the glitter fades....."