Friday, October 31, 2014

Bow Your Head

I'll be walking in a crowd with my head bent for no sensible reason. Head held high when I'm all alone.
A fascination with the cold hard floor when I'm just too afraid to look at a face for a second too long. Too caught up in what everyone else thinks.
They can see right through me and my poorly built walls. With every glance I feel like I'm disintegrating. But that sounds like such a foolish thing to say because no one really cares. They won't even remember me the next minute, so why am I still thinking about it?
I'm still here aren't I? Why's everything an internal conflict with me?
I can't stop whining about my materialistic problems and running my mouth off to people who honestly couldn't care.
I'll take a moment to look at all of my 'serious' problems and exactly how irreparable they are.

Well, I have no excuses. I know almost all the solutions and I shouldn't be worrying about the rest because it's not the right time yet.
So what's holding me back? What 's forcing me to bow my head down like I have something to be ashamed of?

I'm not sure.
That's a lie.
I know why.

It's because I know I'm not doing anything about my problems and it's humiliating. Even if they don't know, even if they never will. 

Friday, October 24, 2014

Weathered Pages

But it's so hard to explain how much these musty old pages mean to me. For the hands that held the book I now hold so tenderly belonged to those who have lived and died long before my time. You may think it's droll to hold onto these weathered books but there's a bit more that you do not know. For the impressions they have left across the pages hold untold stories that I wish I could hear. But I wonder if they would have been able to comprehend how such imperceptible marks could mean so much to me if someone had told them, so long ago. Would they have laughed at the absurd truth or worried about a time when they would cease to exist? These are the people I never had the honor of meeting for I have to settle for tracing the remnants of their legacy. They have walked this earth long before I, but what I share with them has now exceeded blood. I take the time to read the words, cherishing this connection I hold onto by a thread. For what I have is indescribable as I do not yet posses the ability to put these feelings into words. I hope for a day that my descendants may read these beautiful expressions and hold onto me as I hold onto them.