oneword: wanting

why does it always seem as though what you want it always waiting for you on the other side of the fence? is the grass always greener over there? i don't want to spend my life jumping fences to see if it really is. i want to be able to look down at the grass on my side of the fence and breathe out a sigh of relief and be thankful that I am on my side of the fence, even if there is a little brown patch.

oneword: wanting

i want to lie and say that i'm excited. to say that i am hopeful. to say that it feels different this time. i want to say all those things. i want to mean them.

but i am not happy. i am not excited. i am just calm. quiet. afraid to speak. to jinx. to lose this chance. this opportunity to see.

i feel like my heart won't release completely until i get my own little duckies in a row. until i can be what he needs. what he deserves. i want to be what HE deserves.

... this isn't about what i want anymore.

hidden

we scattered few, hidden from view. where ya been red? there's been so much in between your sparkling appearances.

i miss my friend.

oneword: hidden

Massive brick walls and jagged boulders skew my view of you.

Frigid, musty shadows engulf me.

Moisture molecules escape my stinted breath, made visible in this vacuum of humanity, quietly proving the presence of warmth, of love, of possibility, in this otherwise desolate reality.

oneword: asking

where is this going? what are we doing? is this a bubble, just asking to be popped... or is it something scarily, sanely, brilliantly real? something that is just, for once, going to work? all i'm asking is for a little clarity. all i'm asking for is a chance NOT to screw myself over again.

oneword: asking

I don't pray all too often, but in an attempt to believe in some higher power, I have began. This higher power reinforces the fact that I AM alive, and that there is more to everything. There are people, who in them, I believe He lives. Because He is supposedly everywhere, and that's where I see him being. As I left my house this morning, I prayed, asking for his blessing, in hopes that the exam that predetermines where I'll be in the next year would go well. Afterward, I thought about what I had done, and realized that asking Him for something like that was selfish. There IS more to everything, and thinking that my life is predetermined by exams is unnecessary. I won't ask, but I'll let Him know how it went.

wordcount #4: to

To each her own.

Here's to every single talented, raw, energetic female out there daring to be herself. Here's to the cries of despair that might follow. To the doubt that plagues her heart. To the poison infiltrating her defenses at every step of the way.

Here's also to the laughter that tears us from ourselves, returning us refreshed and renewed. To the bravery, the unwavering belief that we have something to say. We have something important to do in this lifetime. And only we--we women--have the power to actually do it.

To each lady willing to embrace that simple truth, that responsibility to herself, to her, I raise a glass.

oneword: asking

All I am asking for is a little patience. I know I can be a monstrous pain in the ass, but that is just a front. I'm scared of letting go, of releasing any of that control I've tried to maintain my whole life. This inane need for constant and total control has mostly been in vain.

What am I saying? It is purely vain. It is ego in its great and powerful oz-like magnificence.

So please, listen to what I'm asking you:

Keep asking.

oneword: diamond

what are these prisms dancing across my eyes at night? red. the passion. or the lack thereof. orange. the heat that i feel in fleeting moments. yellow. the playfulness that escapes me. green. the rebirth i am seeking. blue. the tears. the ones i hide. and purple. only i'm anything but regal.

i am not flawless. sometimes i'm not even sure that i'm worth much at all.

only the thing is, i'm tougher than you think.

oneword: jar

Lock me up, sock me up, bottle me up inside. And outside. I am trapped in an emotional reality that is me, one that I try day in and day out to figure out but rarely get any closer. I always saw myself as an open book, wearing my heart on my sleeve as they say.

But through the years it turns out that book was slammed shut, bound and rebound, wound and rewound until I barely knew where I began.

The lid is stuck. I'm trying with all my might to unscrew it. My palms are raw and shaking. The knife I used to bang the edges is dull and broken. I'm ready to slam the jar into the ground, shattering any remaining chance of rebirth. I don't have any other resources.

But you.

oneword: jar

go ahead. try to bottle me up.

but i guarantee, i am probably way too much for you to handle.