A maven of solitude, my small life asks to be bigger. I’m filled with the emptiness of a thousand and one ideas mowed down by inaction. Each new day they’re raked up and new seeds planted; growing again in that full sun of optimism to a long silky blade.
the people were individual, though it was a general feeling of being left out
anything could have turned it on – just so happened it was one picture
they presented a million faces and i could only see the one
they broke my heart, mended it and broke my heart again
a feeling of togetherness until everything spilled out
mine was theirs, theirs was mine became you keep yours and we’ll keep ours
once in, now out
Anything born out of fear has an undeniable birthmark.
Insidious, fear will steal your true self, bury intuition and scrap your good nature.
You struggle for sure as it grows … as it reveals it’s limited disposition, but keep it close just in case.
It’s kind of a way out every time you give in; denying possibilities, forfeiting the reigns.
Just be sure to appreciate your hard work of holding it tight and revel in all the ways it’s keeping you down and holding you back.
Big or small – it doesn’t matter.
But, it has to be something you. Something by you, about you, for you, from you.
Don’t overthink it – allow and reveal some natural state you’ve masked or hidden. Find your wondrous self, your wondrous mind, your wondrous laugh, wondrous words — use them again and again.
Know your worth.
Put away all the was, were and I can’t/s. Silence your inner critic, abandon old patterns and counsel your lower nafs.