Gift

Someone asked me the other day what I thought would be a nice gift. I told them that I thought a wonderful gift would be to receive a lock of hair. Someone to send me a piece of themselves in the mail. I think it would be so beautiful for someone to think so much of me that they would want me to have a part of them with me. A lock of hair or scrap of clothing, even a piece of bone or skin. To share something so personal with me, something close to them that would never fade away, how wonderful that would be. I would wear it in a locket around my neck or inside a trinket to carry with me everywhere. I would not have to even know them, they could be some stranger from far away or someone I know from right here. A gift of this sort would be the most treasured, priceless thing to me. I would accept it from anywhere and anyone, a gift and a note as to why they chose to honor me with a gift like that. I wonder if there are any kindred spirits out there who share this with me.

Afterlife

I wonder if there is an afterlife. A time so much different than this. Is it just us who come back for another try or do the people we knew then come back as well? Is it possible that the person you brush past in the street or the person you make a brief eye contact with in the elevator is someone you knew from a time long ago? Maybe even someone you loved? Perhaps I knew one of you. Perhaps I was in love with one of you, maybe that is why we have been allowed to find each other again on this space.What if the homeless person asking for help is a brother or sister from another time. What if your worst enemy now was your hearts love then? Maybe this life is a chance to find what you missed so terribly in the past. Whether it be friends, love, family, a chance to make right something you did wrong. Maybe this life is a punishment for a past mistake. I do not know this. But I do know this: Whether I know you now or not, if we are friends or enemies or just strangers passing by, may we meet again in another life.

Trust

What is trust?

Something that is earned or bought?
Something that is given or taken?
Something that can be fixed or broken?
Something that is priceless or worthless?
Something that is here or there?
Something that truly exists or is myth?

What is trust?

In mirrors

Hated
Despised
Unloved
Uncared for
No hope
Forgotten
Unneeded
Ignored
Addict
All the things that make up the face in the mirror.

No matter

No matter where you go I will find you,
If it takes a thousand years.

No matter where you go I will believe in you,
If it takes my last heart.

No matter where you go I will love you,
If it takes my last breath.

No matter where you go I will wait for you,
If it takes my last will.

No matter where you go I will find you,
If it takes a thousand years.

Come back to me

Please, come back to me.
I'll lie for you,
I'll steal for you.
I'll do anything.

Please, come back to me.
I'll cry for you,
I'll scream for you.
I'll do anything.

Please, come back to me.
I'll love for you,
I'll hate for you.
I'll do anything.

Please, come back to me.
I'll bleed for you,
I'll die for you.
I'll do anything.

Notice me

Can't anyone see me
as I rip out my hair?

Can't anyone hear me
as I scream for help?

Can't anyone feel me
as I grasp for reality?

Can't anyone care about me
as our eyes briefly meet?

Can't anyone think of me
as you brush past me in the street?

Can't anyone notice me?

Freaks

I know I have posted this before, but it is one of my favorite pieces as it is so close to my heart. I would like to post it again:

I wish I could travel back in time and go watch the freak shows of the old circuses. I would love to have met the Bearded Lady. I think she is so beautiful; a living, breathing example of true beauty. Beauty is true and wonderful when we look for it. I would love to have just sat and watched her. Watched her comb her hair, watched her dress for the show, watched her apply her makeup. Wondering why she chose to live her life this way. I would tell her that I am envious of her courage and strength to allow all those people on the outside to see her and judge her, but continue to be herself, not hiding her peculiarities but embracing them like I wish I could. I would tell her that I would never judge her and she could show me anything she wanted because I would see her with the eyes of my heart, so she would never be ugly to me. I would have begged her for a lock of her hair to keep with me, so that I would never forget that the eyes of the mind are easily clouded and swayed but the eyes of the heart are clear and true. I have never met this woman, but she has become so dear to me. She is my hero. My freak.

I feel

I feel thin, worn and weak. I feel like a piece of thread being unraveled. Every failure, weakness, every hurt unravels me more and more. My hair, then my mind begins to unravel, my brow, my eyes, my cheeks. Down, down I unravel with every guilty memory, every remorse filled moment. My shoulders are gone, my arms, my body and my legs are gone. My self doubt and self-loathing finish me off and I am nothing more than threads of a life broken, strands of a life passed. Nothing left but fear and hate. My threads are blowing in the wind, my only friend. My final freedom.

Strangers.

Two people can live at the same point in time, but never know that the other existed. To live so separated and distanced from each other, lives so very far apart. Different but living in the same world and the same time. Then to be thrown together, maybe by chance or fate, suddenly aware of each other and their lives. Painfully awake to their existence after a lifetime of ignorance. Spending the rest of their lives as apart of each others life. Even if they never see each other again. That is beautiful.