Leave it Behind

Leave it Behind
     
      The breath of your last word fades away. You can see the pain in her eyes, and feel it in yours. You knew it would end this way some day, but she held on like a vine; the kind of vine that you never pulled away from because it seemed a shame to break its delicate, wandering stems.
      You tear your gaze from her glistening eyes, take a step back. You reach behind you and grab the brass knob to the back door. Your wrist turns to stone. Every memory you've shared courses through your vision, a waterfall of moments. She whispers, soft as silk, "Please don't go."
       Here is the moment. The awful moment when you choose to either turn your back on someone that once gave you happiness, or fall back into her now suffocating arms.

      You turn the knob. The door creaks open. The sunlight is freedom on your face.

      You turn back for one last look and she is no longer the gentle young lady you once held close. Her face contorts, disfigures. All beauty melts away. Her grace disappears, leaving only an unnatural frame behind, looking more like a beast than the woman you knew before. Yet it's still the same voice that whispers, "You won't go."
      It's not a plea this time. She rushes at you, startlingly quickly. You should never have turned back for one last look. It holds you by your hair, sickly sweet voice whispering of love in your ear. Fear courses through you as you struggle. Long, coarse fingers wrap around your neck, choking the life from your lungs.
      You can no longer just struggle. You must fight. With all of the strength you can muster you rip its fingers from your throat and throw it from you. Without a moment to spare you fly through the door, slamming it shut behind you.
      All you can think to do is to run. Run as far and as fast as you can.
      Once your legs can carry you no further, only then can you bring yourself to turn around. In the distance you can still clearly see the house. And in the window you can see the girl with the glistening eyes. Hoping patiently for your return.

Between You and I

There's another world in your eyes.
I can see it when I stare:
a heartbeat in time with the flicker of a candle's light.

I can hear it in your voice,
something familiar.
A bridge between your world and mine.

Can I leave, though, my own world
which I have so carefully assembled?
Can I hide forever?

Meet me on the bridge.
We'll sit with our legs dangling off the side.
You can whisper in my ear.

Words like silk.

Still water or flash floods?
Warm meadows or mountain ridges?
Crisp autumns or perpetual spring?

Your world or mine?

Metal Bench

      I lay here outside left-field, soaking in the starlight. My thoughts inevitably turn to you. It's not that you don't notice me, we laugh together every day, it's that I'm everything to you in the wrong way.
      When you smile at me, run to me and give me a hug, I never--ever--want to let you go. When you're crying on my shoulder after a long day I want to whisper though your tears that I love you.
      I know you don't understand how much it hurts when you talk about him the way you do with that glitter in your eye that carries into your smile. But it's that same smile that I dream about on nights like this.

      I'm here every night because this is where you once told me you loved me. You didn't mean it in the way I longed for you to mean it. Like this bench, it was cold. Warm to you maybe, but the curt sentence cut straight through my chest. So I sit here still, wishing you were here, knowing that you need me more as just a friend.

      And what wouldn't I do for the girl worth a thousand of me?

Catalyst

It has been
distant as Orion for a while now.
So nearly out of sight that I dreamt upon it, instead of
reaching for it.

I wouldn't recall
its enveloping warmth--
the life it gave to even the most somber of nights.
On purpose.

To remember
hurt. To think of all that
had once been got to me every time. Feeling alone
among all

who still possessed it.
And even more so among those who didn't.

I am
the master of the fickle
fine. Clench your teeth through the pain and
it's a smile.

Nobody could
possibly be able to understand
what it's like to feel like everything is holding on
by a thread.

Patience,
it turns out, truly is a
virtue. All good things come to those who
wait.

You came along.
Just in time.

You.
Someone who knew
who knew what it was like to live in a cage.
Alone.

Someone
who escaped and flew
and lived. Living now with a true smile and a truer
laugh.

All that's left
is to thank you for what you've
given me, in the only way I know how-- through
words.

You've given me the greatest gift:
Hope.

Come So Far

I can honestly say that I never thought that this would happen.

When I started this blog just a few months ago I never thought that I would see the day that I would have over 1600 views, and a pocket full of subscribers.

In all truth I was skeptical that anyone would be interested in hearing what I have to say. I was just an eighteen-year-old kid with an overactive imagination and a mind that loved to wander.

So thank you.
Thank you so much.

It was my birthday yesterday. So I'm not "Just Eighteen" anymore. I considered changing the name of this blog to "Just Nineteen", but that just didn't feel right. The more I thought about it, the more I kept coming back to how far I've come since I started this, and from that I drew the new name of this blog:

Come So Far.

I dedicate this post to everyone who has read--and hopefully enjoyed--my ramblings so far.

------

I used to use words to talk.
I would sit and speak through type.
I wanted everyone to listen.
And nod their heads.

I added some rhythm to those words,
though they weren't exactly a song.
As I spoke the words I could feel myself dancing
and I hoped others danced as well.

Now I use words to think.
To think out loud, and I hope--
Hope that others think with me.
Because we've come so far.

------

Little Lexi

I will never stop.

Never stop climbing walls.

Never stop the late calls.

And you know why.

Even if you fight me,

I will never stop fighting

for you.

From you,

I would take every painful moment

upon myself if I could.

In a heartbeat.

When your knees shake,

I will relieve you of any burden

I can steal away.

Because you never have to be alone.

You will always have my

shoulder to lean on,

cry on, to hold on.

Our hands will always be

outstretched.

Even if you hide,

I know that you know

that I'll be right here.

Waiting on the front steps—

Even in the snow.

And you know how much I hate snow.

Never stop laughing.

Because your smile is worth

so much more than you know.

Look around you,

because I will surround you

with everything beautiful.

All you have to do

is take a deep breath—

And hold it.

Cling to it.

Because sometimes beauty

is all you have to remind you

of who you really are.

And who you are,

is twice as breathtaking.

Front

Independent. Immune.

She is fearless.

She is strong.

All those around her

“know” it.

And they all think they see it.

But.

Look. Look deep inside.

Past the walls—past the pride.

And see the girl.

She is afraid. Trembling.

She has fallen, and

It’s dark.

So dark that even her own eyes

betray her, and

She can’t even see herself anymore.

She searches for light

for anything to remind her that she’s

still real. 

She lights a candle.

And another.

And another.

They are dim,

but warm.

And warm means that

She’s still living.

So many candles are lit, though,

that as she lights each one,

another runs out of wax.

No time for tears.

----- 

Turn around.

Flip the switch,

That’s been there all along.

There is a light that

never flickers.

Never dims.

Just say a prayer,

He’ll meet you there.

Wherever “there” may be.

She makes a decision.

An empty space at a table.

As the room floods

with white,

she rises to its heat.

It fills her body and

she remembers

who she is.

A daughter of god.

A princess.

A belle.

Her vigor renews,

she blinks her eyes at

the blinding big world.

And changes it.