Therapeutic musings mixed with humorous ramblings and sometimes spiritual notations of life as I know it in written form. A diary of my heart inspired by life.
Wednesday, October 21, 2015
She looked across the landscape with hooded eyes that were veil of feral pain.... Self imposed or intentionally targeted? It was hard to tell.... The lines had become blurred with intent, purpose, and cause.... But strangely, never regret. She found it odd. As the sun began to settle, the intensity of sadness simmered to a boil. The kettle that held an ocean of tears was deep and heavy. It drained her at the end of each day as a swimmer whose strength could no longer hold them above the water. She took a deep breath and let out a long sigh. She wasn't drowning..... Or was she? Sometimes it felt like every breath would be her last. She looked over her shoulder. Her long blond hair whispered around her face in the gentle breeze. Was she looking at the past... Or perhaps at the generation coming behind her? Would they know her story, would they understand her heart? Not likely. Regardless, she would leave a treasure trove of musings.... An endless amount of haunting escapes to ponder. There would be vast clues to the woman she was, and the warrior she aimed to be. Few knew the battles she fought, or the war that still raged on. Not one to boast of her triumphs, or brag of her skills... She was easily overlooked, under estimated, and often tossed aside like discarded cards from a game of Gin. Not a good fit for the hand you were dealt? If only you knew. There were cracks in her shield... Cracks that would render her defenseless should a carefully place arrow find the tender joint..... Perhaps that would not be a bad thing... To end the fight that seemed to have no end.... To be a warrior no more. Was this her legacy or was there more that even her heart could not reveal? Time would tell.... Only time would tell.