Her

Block.

Brick. Stone. Rock. Mortar. Cement. Stackable. Fallible. Endless. Pointless.

I’m in a tangle. I don’t know what to write. So many spaces, so many voices, too much chatter and running about. In the echo of pressure I’ve placed upon myself I can’t hear myself stop, I don’t know where I’ve dropped. I can think all I want, for hours and hours, but when can I feel? Well not now, it’s already morning!?

Pressures are endless, abounding in process, where are the lines I’ve learned to draw. Boundaries are healthy, but do they push pause on my personality… or help me with flaws?

I know a few lessons, the things I need to keep, but they’ve been muted and clawed out, give me a minute…my brain fell asleep. Too much knowing without feeling, I can’t seem to grasp… it’s purple surrounding, I’m drowning… no I’m not.

I’m busy. Confused. Drawn out and infused with ideas and passion left for later, no space or time left for me to be…bemused. Past tense you have found me…I thought I was present, but no. It’s past, you’ve marked it before I knew when the moment had… past.

No time for that either, where have I gone? Who am I? Extroverted, overscheduled, burned up or run out? Too busy for silence or unable to hear? Stop all this nonsense I just can’t catch up!

Stop it fall! Colder weather I’ve only just caught up to sunsets and sunscreen, dresses and friends… why must you torment me with sweaters, pending snow and oooohhhh the dark mornings?

I thought I knew me? I thought we we’re good!? What am I learning? What is it that I’ve so misunderstood?

I can’t find myself, I’m lost in a crowd. How do I hear my voice when I’m scrolling and trolling unable to pause…

Remember the girl who went out in the morning? With her dog or her bike when life felt so boring? She chased down her thoughts with footsteps imploring iambic pentameter to match the marching of a voice so steady in beat it made all the cobwebs un-stick and fall out. Thoughts of importance, direction and focus left after the push of sweaty exploding. Life was small yet easy to see, when did it get buried and so damn heavy? Balance you’re a label, peel-able and un-serving. With no master you flee as life plays its game.

I miss the girl with the solitary voice, who didn’t question the mission but chased the sun. I’ve been caught up in something…I can’t quite describe, but I miss that girl that I used to be, who was intrinsically fun and knew how to be…

Herself