Archive for March, 2011

You don’t need anyone else

to make you beautiful.

You don’t have to be complicated

to stand out.

You don’t need others

to hold you up.

You can do it

all on your own.

Don’t bother trying; The reward is a lie.
No justification for it. It’s just not there.
Cold, uncaring eyes look right past your own
As they tell you it wasn’t there to try for.
It wasn’t yours to take.
All the effort was unneeded and all the wanting was a joke.
There was no trophy at the end.
There was no ribbon to pin.
There was only the memory of the path you’d ran.
The pain in your legs and the burning in your lungs.
The sweat in your eyes and the ache in your feet.
Your heart pounding it’s way out of your chest.
There wasn’t even a finish line.
Just your own foolishness.

Walking down this winding road, every step is your own.
No one moves your feet but you as you venture toward the unknown.
Even the familiar is vaguely strange as you realize you’re alone.
A journey’s worth adventure with every move you make.
A lifetime’s worth of sorrow trapped within each mistake.
Sleep lightly and rest shortly because it’s safer to stay awake.
Though the elements collide before you and sorrow weighs you down,
Though it’s been miles and days since you’ve had the safety of a town,
Keep pressing forward through rain and hail and rivers where others drown.

The road has no end until you drop and the obstacles remain plenty.
Each step is a choice that you must make. And what will yours be?
Heavier and heavier as the miles come, and the choice gets harder, truly.

We are like waves crashing.
A gradual force thrust against the inevitable.
We drown to breathe.
Each gasp a suffocation.
Catastrophic incidents of euphoria.
Amorous expressions of disbelief.
Waving curiosity and the capacity of our thoughts to reach the shores of others.
Lingering chances drift ashore on the beaches of their dreams; Unseen and unnoticed as ourselves.
Seeking the urge to drown and surface we kiss the force of life, leaving sand dollars and soft glass, storing our music in shells.
Hearts cling to feelings as starfish to rocks and hands as tides move slow and constant.

Take off your shoes and socks. Roll up your pant legs.
We’ll run through wet fields with laughter on our faces.
We’ll jump over thistles and roll over clovers.
Pants with grass stains and mud on our backs, we’ll tumble together in joyous embrace.
Swimming holes and rope swings are the trophies of the day, where sand will invade spaces between toes.
A dessert of cloud gazing with warm sun à la mode.