Sunsets are still singing to me, curving their long arms around me, clutching my heart then breaking into their monotonous twirling. The colors turn from talkative to serene, to complete stillness. They speak into me the life I have lost by fulfilling my now-resented dreams.
What I hate most about my life is what I love most about my life.
From disconnected to blissfully aware, from sorrowful to as joyous as a kindergarten, from who I am to who I dream to become.
But I’m building – bricks are thrown with a hasty heart and with a darkened and obsessive mind. I’m holding – with the rage and cry and stubbornness of a wild thing that is being told she’s too old for hunting.
I’m dying and coming alive, cursing the same things I love most.
Sunrises are still springing gardens inside me.
They make me wake and tender. They rose yesterday’s hurting thoughts.
Walk me, my love of life! I have been always your only path.