To accomplish

I'm stuck on repeat. Full of future stories of success. Full of a lot of things.
Still lost, an old broken doll. a key to nothing, nowhere.
The only thing changing is the amount of time I have left.
To accomplish.
Tomorrow. I hate you.
I have ignored today, everyday.
I fear simple joy because the world seems to be constantly reaching for equilibrium.
Would happiness be punished with sadness?
success with failure?
love with hate?
Is this perspective truly the only thing holding me back?
I try to try. I like to think I do. I like to think that you think I do.
Do you?
No one knows my heart or soul. I do not even bare it to myself.
I pit them against one another, waiting to see who wins.
I always lose.
But every other game I win. At least I think so, or want you to think so.
Wholeness marred consistently by this wanting inner anxiety to create.
Create something important but unknown.
Torturous desire to find IT.
Smart, if you knew how many people I had to fight with, in my mind, to survive.
To accomplish.
Anything.

Sing it.

Woke up spraying, hatin life, praying.

There’s gotta be someone out there who hears what I am saying.

Ate some shit, hate some shit, forget it.

Gonna go about my day just faking it.

Walking through the same routine, unseen,

I’m muddy as hell and feeling unclean.

I don’t know anymore, I can’t grow anymore

and if you ask me, shits’ the same as it was before.

Gotta little pocket with a little bit of cash,

Gotta a little bigger shadow to cast.

Bigger, bigger dreams…. smaller, smaller means.

Just passing the days in between being seen and unseen.

There is no answer, you tried to cage a dancer

And if you hear me singing don’t confuse it with joy

It’s just the girl that I was before I met the boy

Lost

Did it again, feeling lost in my own decision.
Was it a decision?
What just happened?
Trying against trying so hard to get it right.
Maybe tomorrow, or tonight?

Simple, stagnate star.
Thought I was moving but the world was moving around me.
Don't know what I could be.
Wanting to dream again.
Mature dreaming with realistic happy outcomes.
Sane dreams, what does sane mean?

Age and time just carry more questions,
less answers.
No big surprise, look into my eyes.
They have seen stupidity for years.
Listened with broken ears.
Hearing the same record, crying the same tears.

But hope lie in wait.
Always slowly sliding along side.
Like a lazy shadow with too much pride.
Here comes "hope" let's play.
Or pray.

Never done, thinking of new angles,
within an old picture.
Tear it all to pieces / put it together again.
Will it not look the same?
Same story, different name.
Lost, and doing it all over again.

Hope

I vow to stop pushing it down
have hope
Why not me?
All dreams coming true
It does not cost me or you
It is not selfish
It is not enough to wish
I will have hope, hold it close
dream as though its been received
Live in what that might feel like
what it does feel like
Swelling heart and unbelieving eyes
I tried
But hope fades, day by day
and I know it will continue to
if I am lost in my dismay
Just stay
Hope
Stay
My grateful self will relish you
I will know for some part of it all,
it was worth it
Because I never lost Hope
I never gave up on you
Don't give up on me
I am right here, see??
Believing
Do you believe in me?

Again.

Walking in the dark, holding my own hand, forgetting what has heightened my fear.
Worried because I know I was worried about something but what, what?
My skin crawls like a million hungry insects. I can feel every follicle flex.
My anxiety takes over as my rational mind fades slowly to the back.
I'm talking to myself over and over.
Retracing my last internal conversation like walking backwards in a maze.
Maybe this is insanity.
Maybe it's depression.
Maybe it's a lack of sleep followed closely by regression.
Whatever it is, I have no control. Shutting down.
Slipping slowly into a corner.
For there is nothing but safety in a solid place where I can get really small.
Find my facilities and take comfort in the permanence of a wall.
Random irrational rhyming...out of my control.
Another bid to make things fit. I can't help it.
Its like a sickness,
and you are witness, excuse me Miss; but there is something amiss.
I like to blame it on the rain that beats my roof, makes me question my sanity while draining me.
A white-less winter, a colour-less world, a black and white nightmare, and a tiny scared girl.
All less romantic than I had planned. All a little too much to stand. But then again I do it again and again.

Love letter to my heart.

My thoughtlessness towards you haunts me.
You gave me everything and moved me forward.
Even when I knew nothing about where we were going.
I am now so grateful for all the pressure you held,
for all the times you pushed me through the darkness and filled my chest with joy.

Maybe you are tired, you are definitely wounded
and apparently always have been.
Yet I forced you forward with carelessness.
You prevailed with grace.

Tomorrow I will ask you for another hard day.
You must be the bravest you have ever been.
I ask you this as one last favour.
And I promise to, forever after, be careful and conscious of you.

I promise to cherish you, feed you, and take care of you.
I will not take you for granted.
I will work with you to keep you light and fast.
Clean and strong.

Please be strong, thank you for everything.

Always - a fool hearted game.

Always walking along the precipice. Torn open between the soaring wind and warm gravity. Trying to fly with all that weight. Searching, forever searching. Building destinations of freedom out of dreams that may not be mine. Yet so sure that salvation is one obstruction away. Dangling in the distance like a beautiful mirage, there lies the promise of home. To which all my hope and focus lay claim. Lost in a maze of my own making, playing a foolhearted game.