Just another WordPress.com site

Impromptu Poetry: I’m here to li[o]ve

I’m trying to unpack my feelings.
My shrink once said, I pack them masterfully so.
Box on top of box.
Boxes full of random stuff. Hurts, pains and disappointments.
But one, day.
Yes, one day, when I go to make room for a new box, unless I clear out the old, they will all come tumbling down.
I met a person.
I thought nothing of him.
I made up my mind that loving him would be an epic, foolish failure that I’d surely deserve.
He is far too young.
He is long distance.
He will make mistakes. Your twenties are ripe with mishaps and lessons and big mistakes.
What can he really do for you?
So I went on.
We talked about our lives.
I talked about the mistakes I made and he listened so close.
So close, I think I could hear him willing his heartbeat not to sound so loud to drown out my laughter.
Oh he makes me laugh and smile and blush. He makes me want to break out my favorite music, shit I don’t think he’d even know about.
And I want him to hear it. To listen. To hear in between the melodies why this song makes me feel a certain way.
I want to see what his ears hear, and let him tell it… with fresh words and thoughts and opinions to make me see it anew.
Something about him reminds me of my younger self.
Fearless, reckless not bothered to be burdened by the reality of, well, reality.
But just thoughts, dreams and wonder taking flight.
Being silly. Wanting to dance and dance.
Ashes, ashes, we all fall down.
Wanting to laugh and laugh.
I didn’t want to let HIM make me feel like this.
I reserved that section for someone else. Someone else who was already where I was, who already made the youthful mistakes they were supposed to have already made…
But it seems those men are still happy to make those same mistakes.
Comfortable with the title of man, clothed in degrees. They got the job, they made it…
But they still have others to blame.
I know you’ll make mistakes, you’ll probably hurt me.
It’s beautiful that you know this too, and that you sincerely don’t want to. It’s your truth, and for that, it’s far easier to swallow.
My entire insides say, just be. Ride it till the wheels fall off.
If whatever this is makes you feel good. Makes you smile and blush and laugh and stay up all night playing music, or listening to each other fall asleep, you live this and you live this hard.
You haven’t felt this sexy. Or dangerous or vulnerable.
But you are here right now for a reason.
He is your lesson to learn, that you’ve still got lessons to learn.
You won’t age out of life.
A new morning is that. New and full of promise. A canvas waiting for your first stroke of paint. You pick the color and tone and direction. A line or a circle? A dot or full furious flourishes.
It’s truly up to you.
An inferno of red, a bright, bold, optimistic yellow. A regal purple or a serene slice of blue. Life in green. Something to take root and grow.
You won’t age out of mistakes, you’ll just be more scared to make them, because you’ll have tricked yourself into believing you know better.
Maybe he’s teaching you to leap without looking.
Playing it safe means clean clothes and no bruises.
But the scars we wear tell the best stories. The scars we wear means we either tried, fell or fought.
And the scars also remind us we’ve healed.
We’ve haphazardly dropped tiny, tiny seeds that managed to land in random cracks. Who knew the cracks would drink in whatever rain it could? Who knew a sun beam could drill down so far? And to my absolute surprise small buds have bloomed.
It’s easy to ignore cracks. Or think the sun and rain are much too busy to find them.
It’s a hello beautiful, how was your day?
It was an “I was thinking about you.”
It was the retelling of the day we met and how I was dancing so free. By myself. Alive.
And how you were so bold, yet a little nervous that I’d respond positively.
Being in the same place at the same time sharing a moment then, and sharing the directors cut now.
I’ve said over and over, there is a reason. I want to focus on the big picture reason and be thankful for that.
I do like smiling. I catch myself laughing so hard and blushing.
It’s almost shocking and embarrassing but it’s honest.
So fine. Come here. Let’s touch and talk and laugh. I will not fight your kindness. I will not fight the words you speak, because they feel real. I will lay down my arms against myself. And I will be. I will live, come scars and bruises, come tears and frustration.
I’m here to live. I’m here to love.

Single Post Navigation

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: