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*************** ******** ***** ** do I want to know myself I think I do if I were to tell you who I was who would listen as I am listening now to myself in the dark sometimes I've got my blind spots sometimes I am my secrets sometimes I go so deep under ground what would I call my story facts about me might help though facts can be hard to pin down facts can raise the curtain onto some gradual light like the rising sun of my consciousness so, here it goes: I am shy yet I splay my heart wide open for all to see I am someone who is filled up with the uncertainty of sentimentality and it gets in my way while making me very much who I am I am outspoken too I've a knack for making others feel uncomfortable- sometimes they walk away not knowing what to say or do I've a voice which echoes through canyons gaining momentum throughout time its a sort of testing out of experience and sometimes, of patience I am fragile and I am tensile-ly strong sometimes I know very well how to get along on my own but not so well with others often I can only guess at what to do other times I'm so keenly attuned I wish I could tune out often I am lonely without a doubt but often I hide this and hibernate a lot more than I admit or reveal Sometimes I find myself staring into the lives of others envying what they have for me their seeming joie de vivre has so much appeal what skill is it they've got which I seem mostly to lack a certain talent of kind of knack how I've studied them yet still have gone it alone Its difficult sleeping in the night its the time when I most frequently write through my darkness having elaborate conversations with myself its my attempts to soothe and remove the savageness in my heart I didn't know I had a voice until long ago when I didn't have the choice and it came to speaking for who and what I felt I was and believed in now I'm beginning to feel some new relief I know who I am and speaking out about who you are is a journey I'd recommend to anyone who feels lost its opening a series of doors and there's always one more to unlock and peer behind its exciting its overwhelming its a lot like clearing out the debris after a fire clarifying what needs to be cleared what needs to be remembered what needs to be cherished some of us stumble throughout our entire lives until we learn its alright to have a diamond beating in our chest and to learn about how fine a diamond our heart is what a fine diamond we are and to know it was always there shining from our beginnings I won't let my light burn down and flicker out how hard it is to tell someone you've been struggling that you're tired truly at the point of near expiration but you don't have to explain yourself you are enough with or without words but here I'm sitting in my chair I'm writing vigorously I'm telling you I am still here in words that would be shouts echoing in the densest deepest forest of my soul I've survived the fires I am I write/I say/I must believe I write until I believe in the the diamond of myself... these keys, this page, my mind all testify that the diamond which is fired burned down charcoal from a fire breathes I am still here *********************************************** *********************************** ********************* ********** **** * written directly/bravely to the page. I've been dealing with all manner of chronic pain...grief, physical, etc. It helps to exorcise it. writing is that exercise...maybe I'm exercising it? legal copyright for this work/poem and also for this writer/author Melissa A Howells and also for this legally copyrighted site title Meloo Straight From Her Tilt-a-World 9/11/17...oh now, I understand why it feels acute, its 911 too. wow. re-edited Sunday September 17.2017 1:34PM PST Vote for this poem |
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