Unearthed

Can't be afraid of who you are
Who sees
Who knows
You'll suffocate in the despair
Tucked away in a jar
Impossible to please
Easiest to grow
Steady
And, ready
Away from Him
Almost gone, the weeds are
Seeds planted, and life emerges
Breaking through
Breathing air
Clean and quiet

Can't be afraid of who I am
You see
You know
I no longer suffocate with despair
Almost, empty the jar

#unedited #writingsprint #unpolished

-- (c)deyanira.

Read All About It, Part III - Emeli Sande

You've got the words to change a nation
But you're biting your tongue
You've spent a life time stuck in silence
Afraid you'll say something wrong
If no one ever hears it how we gonna learn your song?

So come on, come on
Come on, come on
You've got a heart as loud as lightning
So why let your voice be tamed?
Maybe we're a little different
There's no need to be ashamed
You've got the light to fight the shadows
So stop hiding it away
Come on, come on

I wanna sing, I wanna shout
I wanna scream 'til the words dry out
So put it in all of the papers,
I'm not afraid
They can read all about it
Read all about it, oh
Oh oh oh
Oh oh oh
Oh oh oh
Oh oh oh
Oh oh oh
Oh oh oh

At night we're waking up the neighbors
While we sing away the blues
Making sure that we're remembered, yeah
'Cause we all matter too
If the truth has been forbidden
Then we're breaking all the rules

So come on, come on
Come on, come on,
Let's get the TV and the radio
To play our tune again
It's 'bout time we got some airplay of our version of events
There's no need to be afraid
I will sing with you my friend
Come on, come on

Yeah, we're all wonderful, wonderful people

So when did we all get so fearful?
Now we're finally finding our voices
So take a chance, come help me sing this
Yeah, we're all wonderful, wonderful people
So when did we all get so fearful?
And now we're finally finding our voices
Just take a chance, come help me sing this

Streaming Water

This year, like this time last, words were not typed on the daily, as the participating group expects. I’ve learned a few things about my writing habits. Typically, I produce work when it is unexpected - my best work. The excitement around NaNoWriMo in November is infectious, and I’m happy to join others around the world. But, I wonder why I just don’t write to write it down.

Perhaps I write because I forget memories. Maybe, this is not meant to be read by others. When I think of writers, the classical ones, their lives are rich with thought and expression. They experience turmoil and deep connection (or, disconnect) with life and living. They draw from it and keep on until all sides of their stories burning within are exposed.

I’ve done the thing. Thought upon thoughts emersed by scattered ideas. Only to make known a small percentage of what burns within. It’s water through my fingers. I see water, I feel the water, but I cannot hold the water. I cannot reshape it. I lose sight and am confused by the rapid, fragmented string of words.

         

I regret all that I did for love. Things never done before and likely will never do again. He hindered, caused me to doubt my uniqueness and power, needed me small at his side. He is a tornado. Exciting and destructive. In the middle of his roar and thunder, there is a single pocket of bright, beautiful calm. He’s the loneliest person I’ve ever known. He’ll break you so that he isn’t alone.

I’m torn between him leaving and disappearing across state lines, deep into international waters never to be heard or seen from again, or seek justice and impose the punishment he’s earned. I don’t know which is better or worse to know or not know where he is all of the time. I’m in danger of his explosive and quiet violence, either way.

A lesson I learned long before he crossed my path is that love, pain, anger, and everything else is felt until it is not. No timetable exists. No end in sight until you reach it. And, there is no escaping. There is only living through it. Embracing the scars as evidence of life.

**

A performance against domestic violence.