liquid sunrise

I had this big window in my room when I was little where I liked to watch the sun set after finishing my homework. And as the seasons changed those sunsets changed and I think I began to change with them. The navy of winter gave way to crimson in spring, and with it came the year my heart was broken. And when spring became summer the sun set a little later so eventually I set a little later. Homework turned to broken curfew and nighttime only brought nostalgia and hunger and urgency. So when daylight gave me distaste in the fall of the following year I fell back into the rhythm of the suns goodbye. Watching out my window became watching from some strangers bed; and rather than falling in love when the sky permitted that childlike yellow and those sorrow-less reds, I fell apart. That was the year I found God. But God had a funny way of ignoring my midnight plea’s so I changed a little more. I found comfort in the wrong set of arms and solace in the pain-prescriptions. I discovered Jesus with your hands around my neck and felt reality in the weight of my own heart. My window stayed locked and often my homework undone; so when the sky began to suffocate and I flunked out of school I blamed the changing seasons. I’d never asked to fall in love with the tragedy of it all. Never wanted night to become my best friend and most viscous enemy. Never prayed for summer to end or spring to move on, or the sun to steal my innocence. These were the years I let go. These were the years I found myself. Carved and refined and worked on my rock until I became a David of modern day. These were the lessons. The years that changed my life.

relevance

I got lost in the ocean once. When I was six I found myself in a place where my toes couldn’t touch the sand. I wanted to breathe in the color of the waves that crashed in my hands. I tried and I panicked. The water didn’t want my body // I worry now that you do not want my body. I want to breathe in the blue of your eyes and the wash of your love. I can no longer touch the sand. Please do not let me drown.

more

I feel as small as the

trees

look from my favorite spot.

A sea of civilization

freckled with

oaks,

redwoods,

pines.

I am one of these trees.

And I am drowning in the

immensity of my surroundings.

Drowning inside my body.

Drowning in the

thought of it all.

In the infinite possibility.

Yet

my legs keep kicking,

arms keep

paddling.

I feel a drought all around

but

my body is so full.

My head is so heavy.

The chemicals will

kick in soon enough,

though.

And the dams

will hold.

I will go through another day.

Holding back

the war I want to

unleash.

I will crawl into

bed; alone: tired.

And think:

tomorrow will be better.

because

you made it one more day.

And I will be

proud

of that.

And I will be

proud

of myself.

And I will be,

one day,

more than ok.

naked

Today is a hard day. Today I can feel a tightness in my chest that wasn’t there a week ago. Today my bones are tired tired tired. Brain is tired tired tired. Today I am afraid me, of this sadness in my heart, of this sleep-deprived-unfed-neglected pile of person. I am worried. Living on my own is harder than ever imagined on days like these. Days where you need your parents cooking and someone to tell you that they’re proud of you.

This morning I sat in class and I couldn’t shake a feeling that I wasn’t going to be ok. I know I will, it’s always ok in the end, but this morning it didn’t feel quite that right. I’m trying hard here but I have not been trying my hardest and the anxiety pooling at the base of the pit I’ve created is making it a bit hard to breathe. I believe in myself, I know I can manage all of it and succeed with all of it and make the best of all of it, but I am so afraid I’ve already failed.

My heart has had a pretty hard week as well. The poor thing, I’ve put it through so much. I’ve been too open to too many pathetic promising people and it’s left my heart a bit bruised. I haven’t found the time to learn to love it like they do. I don’t know why I cannot grasp the whole self-sufficient thing. Today my heart is hurting. Today I am hurting. Today I am just bearably anxious and panic is lurking like a shadow. Today I am just a girl in a world much too big for her and I am scared. I am scared to jump and I am scared to fall.

I miss the souls at home. My family, my friends, the blessings in my life. I love it here – the newness, the pretty, the free – but I miss my mom and dad. I miss my little brother. I am so afraid of letting them down. So afraid I won’t be enough. So afraid I wasn’t enough to begin with.

Today is a Wednesday, my favorite days. Today is a hard favorite day. Writing by the river with music in my head I feel better than I did. Today I decide what I want, I control. Today I can turn this around, today I will turn this around.

x

Thank you for listening, and I am sorry if I scared you with my words. These are words for you and me. This is my heart on a page and as much as it gets kicked and picked on it will continue beating. I am a happy soul having a bad day. Tomorrow I will be a happy soul having a better day. I hope you read this and agree with my message: you are in charge. We can change this. We will change this.

Thank you for listening. Thank you for letting me be heard.