I type your name into space.
A multitude of emotions follow.
I want to see what you’re up to, but I pray that you aren’t up to no good.
Chances are non-existent that my search will retrieve a positive story.
Instead I get to relive past disappointments.
As long as they are in the past they provide a sense of relief.
Nothing new…no new worry.
I can swallow and take a breath again, and take on my cold hearted demeanor once again.
1. I gave birth to you, but I don’t know you; still you claim my heart.
2. And You…you don’t need me. You never did. It was sweet of you to pretend.
3. You…cling to me, and seek out my approval, but you are stronger than you know.
4. And you. You ARE me. I’m sorry, but it may serve you well.
My four beautiful creations. I could not have done better.
Every praise and prideful moment is wracked with guilt.
I stake no claim on a job well done any more than I would claim the poor choices made by another of my own choosing.
You, my children, have a plethora of examples given by me, and those who raised you. It is up to YOU to decide which path to follow.
All I can do is be awake and aware, and let you know I love you.
Dependent on imbibement.
Freedom to let the world know, but more importantly, YOU, know.
I am consumed.
Every wicked thought crushes the goodness I don’t deserve.
My mom’s dog is dead.
He was a touchstone for all of us.
We didn’t get to say goodbye.
This makes me sad.
I believe I am your identity.
Caregiver, confidant; friend.
I was the person who made you feel whole.
A HUGE responsibility!
You were amazing from the start.
I hold your stories dear.
My heart is yours…I will keep you there and make you proud.
I have your gift…of keeping people close, while keeping a distance that we control.
You have the sweetness that the world craves.
I have it too.
Purity balanced with enough experience.
Calm clarity…with the ability to sink way too deep.
I listen for your words.
They are a guilty pleasure.
Your way of speaking… disjointed, but connected. One point linked to the next, however obscure.
Rolling your words around in my mind.
Clinging to thoughts that swirl around me, with no intention of touching mine.
Worshiping an ideal.
Universe: why does everything have to be so far away? Our world is seeking connections that are out of reach.
Earth: so fragile, while so strong. Humans need to look UP.
Community: seek out and around before looking down. How can anyone complain if they have the ability to make their woes global?
Individual: look inward. Are you who you were meant to be?
Self: listen, process: Be.
My mind surmises..
Journeys unknown…revisited; imagined, evaluated…over-thought.
Seeking out the verse of another. The one who speaks my language, only bolder.
I implore: If you visit my words at all…please give me access to yours.
Through which I’ve found: