Memories in boxes in my mind, Lost and forgotten over time, I thought I left them all behind, But here I am unpacking boxes. One by one, they feel like a ghost town, I found the one that was weighing me down Like a makeshift tent on a verge of a breakdown, Like a Stonewall crashing on the edge of a playground. Piece by piece I turn back the pages Of the past I locked up in cages, Some soaked in tears, Some burnt at the edges, Some painted black of my younger years. "Leave this box in the past!" My mind screams, "you must!" Ashes to ashes and dust to dust, But the dust and the ashes Are burning and robbing my heart of trust. I can't close this box like a door, The lid I have doesn't fit anymore, But I keep it close to my heart Grounded in time like a nail in the floor That won't break apart. Unpacking this box was no easy task, And cleaning the memories of cobweb and dust, But what happens now? I wonder and ask, What do I do with parts of the past All sor...
LET THE LITTLE GIRL WALK FREE... Today my thoughts were wondering astray and though I would orderly redirect them in my focused anxiety, today astray felt peaceful. I wondered on sweet childhood avenues for a while remembering the innocence of those days, the happiness and simplicity. However much I miss the little girl I once was, she still lives in me, very much alive lately. I love the little girl. My happy memories go as far as the age of 12. Nostalgic remembrances, they sometimes paradoxically ground me. They remind me of all the things that shaped the essence that now makes up my life. Curios creature, always discovering, fascinated by the smallest things most people don't even notice. I held on to that as I stepped into maturity constrained to filling bigger grown-ups shoes. Every once in a while I take the shoes off and let the little girl walk free…and nothings feels more lively and real than the hidden worlds she has shown to me. - Theatre of Dreams - ...
To a remarkable life giver, Happy Mother's Day! Creation to Creation, Speak the truth, Beyond your intuition, And beyond your root. I am not of you, I could not be, We're not even the ones we knew, And still, you are a part of me. Part of the one I should have been, That always was, but never seen, Part of my soul that's sweet and kind, Part of my mind that once was blind. What more can make you part of me, Then life itself? The one you gave me lovingly, When I forgot myself. Creation to Creation, We are of one Universal motion Of all the good we've done.
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