Lost in the Words / A Few Words to Myself
Deep down you know that it’s only a hump, a bump in the road that will soon pass. But right now in this moment you can’t seem to go over that the hump and into the brightness of a clearing day. Where the words flow from your mind and onto the screen in pure joy.
Lately, I am that person unable to stride over that hump. I have tried and tried and the only thing that seems to be starring back at me is the failure that I couldn’t do what I promised myself to do. It sucks. Yes, I said it. It sucks so darn much because I can hear my characters calling out to me. I can see them walking forward, wanting to turn back, but I always pushing ahead. I can see them advancing and meeting with new faces and going to new places. I can see all of it, but at the moment I can’t write it.
Everyone has their own way in handling a stressful phase in life. Some eat, turn to illegal drugs, smoke, and others write. I want to be the one to write it out. But when the emotions are confusing it makes it harder to type the first sentence.
Today, although I’m going through hell in my mind and physically. I will write it all, express what’s been trapped within and pray that when I let it all flow onto the paper or the screen it will set me free.
So, here it is:
The words of others call out to me. But I am not here.
I can see their hands reaching out to me. But I am not there.
What they are calling to and reaching for is a hollow shell of what used to be me.
The Me that walked in the pouring rains of spring and the blazing heat of summer and even the frigid winds in winter.
Yes, I was a survivor. I saw the goal, the shining golden flag of victory and strived for it until I had it in my grasps.
That is the Me they are calling.
The Me now is lost in her thoughts.
Lost in the darkness around her and trying desperately to find the exit.
Well, she was…
Now she sits alone, hearing the voices of the night. Holding her knees close to her, rocking
The Me now is lost, yes, but she is not alone.
There are others who are still waiting for her to be the Me she once was.
For the darkness is only an obscure obstacle for the Me that awaits on the other side.