People walk by and I smell the fulfillment of their lives...it is the most viscerally satisfying fragrance one could hope to inhale
Every day that I wake up,I'm never certain
Even should the world around me be calm
That I will be facing a day with enough strengh where my heart has the courage to sift through
My memories of pretending to be a part of the Golden mean, my moments of true personal triumphs known to only me , and so many reminders of how I'm supposed to be. And come up with a motivational game plan to survive this isolation on the periphery of life.
Could I just suppose to be just like this and work on the kinetics of my heaving of mind and heart before my soul evaporates to a veneer of some weird sort of human condition I cannot even begin to imagine.
As Time passes there is a terror that is seeping in around my mind, darkening the hope light in my heart, changing the opacity of my soul.... that there is a fulcrum sort of function to the capacity for a human being to be able to say... I overcame the demons that tried to kill my destiny. To turn it into shards of teardrop movies like shattered images and fractals of time all glued together into one stained glass window that you get to look out forever....
Yet you know you will never have,love,hold,achieve,feel,be or experience any of those things....
But you get to look out the stained glass window.... of unfulfilled potential and unrealized dreams while you know long past the time of realizing you must still fight to heal yourself, because
Fighting to heal myself is the only way I know of life...so if Im not doing it , I feel dead inside...
There must be a more ethereal function for healing for such divinely made beings...
I kill the flame of my very soul in the relentless pushing of my crippled passions against whatever the antagonist be...from brokenness to my destiny.
I am also not sure I'm ready to stop believing that their is a niche of people out there who will respect me as a strong, ìntelligent,courageous woman,who has finally learned to live proudly with her scars...and there is a place for me . Who can handle my struggles because they truly see all the levels I'm fighting on and I don't stop till the lesson is learned ,the skill is gained, the wisdom of my choices is sorted through and I move on.
I would love to not be my only voice of reason, and the same voice that must plead to not be too hard on yourself ... you balance it out in your heart, you run the logics through your head... but you forget how hard it is to be completely honest with yourself about somethings when your really scared....or how your brain will lie completely to your heart or vice versa for some sort of survival mechanism you couldn't even see coming...cause it hits you in the hindsight- despite your complete dedication to complete authentic honesty with yourself.
At the end of the day, I want my life to have real fulfillment, real peace,real joy, real love, real connection, vitality you taste like juicy clementine first thing in the morning....security that holds you like his arms under the blankets on a stormy night and love that can look in the mirror and see respect at the eyes looking back at her there too...
That treasure is buried in my life and I am nearly bedridden....
God help me find that one small step that can lead me closer to some reciprocity.
I am begging for Mercy once again.
