Break Free, Run Away.

We say people build walls around us, but the tallest of them all are the ones we build ourselves. These are the ones that don’t falter or come crashing down like all those others will at some point. Like shields of steel, to keep ourselves from hurting, we place our shields around us in the forms of boundaries and taboos… what never occurs to us is that these shields aren’t perfect. They keep us away from all the ‘trouble’ we’d get into otherwise but like caterpillars having no way out of their cocoons, we rot away from the inside. When we could spread our wings in this wide world like so many who dared to do did, we watch a filtered image of a world from inside. And from behind the bars, everything looks a little different… and we don’t try to break free because we don’t understand why we would. We think we’ve got it good, that so many others die everyday.. but at least they die as heroes of their own stories. We die as victims in the arms of the ones who stepped out. So, like so many did before and so many more never did, I’m going to Break Free. I’m going to Run Away… Sixty Seconds is a long time to wait indeed.


Not Sorry this time

Loneliness takes the best of me as I write about a person I would have never known if the bus hadn’t stopped at the wrong place that day. As I lay here in the quiet hours of the night with no sound but that of distant vehicles and my alarm clock ticking out today, and with no light but that from the little sheep of a night light I have, I’ve got no choice but to linger along the what-ifs and could-have-beens. The girl who refuses to be heard, speaks! What I miss the most about the new beginning is the presence of a champion, the words of an explorer, the stories of a survivor and the company of a healer. We thought it was unfortunate that the bus stopped but getting to know you was a privilege. And it took me some time to appreciate it. As darkness envelopes me the way your stories engulfed me, I miss your baffling theories on days like today, the otherwise boring days… the Philosophers we tried to be when the hours ran late and coke stained the bottom of my tea cup. Our secret spot awaits your return to count stars and map constellations, to tell stories and make more. The people on the streets below whose names we’ll never learn to spell cross my mind, all the cars we named after people, all the clouds we materialized in front of us, all the words exchanged from which lines stand out so clearly in my mind. Words of wisdom and some of foolishness that I’ve pulled out so many times out of a typed word document that I’m afraid I’ll draw the words out of the screen. Even when the ink runs dry, the words don’t die. This cold night reminds me of warm drinks and roasted marshmallows. Time passes by us pretty fast; tonight will tick away, tomorrow will be another day and once I dreaded that because I was afraid of getting to know you. I was afraid of knowing too much or knowing too little. In my mind were a thousand stories, endings and beginnings that could be you, none in which you were missed. I realize today that there’s only so many times that you can deny missing someone, and I’m not denying it today.

Let Me

Let me write a song, a poem, a phrase or two

To tell you how much I love you and miss you too

Let me whisper now to every passer by

How your faith was a river, your doubts the sky

Let me tell the world the stories we thought were our own

And tell them how we’ve fallen apart and then grown

Let me trace the image of the scars across your face

And remind myself how you moved to me with grace

Let me count our memories, a moment at a time

When you didn’t have to lie that you were fine

Let me cage my heart and refuse to set it free

Until I recall every lie you lived because of me.