It’s been awhile.
Seasons come and gone.
Moon cycles have passed.
My hair has grown.


Inspire from within is my silver lining this clock.
I will wake up one day, on the ocean, in white, speaking in tongues other than my own.  Holding love I entered. 
Working, scrapping my heals-rooting myself in permanent.

For now, I hang my restlessness to breathe.
My wounds still walk as the pages fill. Not overdone, but Redefined.

I guess I don’t have much to say.  I conquer it has to be that I no longer have an audience.
No one.  And, I am perfectly happy with that.
I am not Agoraphobic, I am not “sad,” I am just a realist.
I see. Aware.
I do have a heart, but it remains useless.
Again, I am truthfully happy without a heart.
I have freedoms people only dream about.

Without friendships, I have no reason for expectations. 
Without relationships, I never have to depend on being disappointed.
Without love, I have the right to be myself.


So, now where do I fly?
I am looking forward to the Summer of 2014.
This will be my ‘Summer of ‘69.’
I will be packing my Duplex into many boxes.  Some small, some really big.
I will be headed to my future on a Full Internship.
I count each grain of sand in the hour glass that takes its fall to even flow time.

Two years left of this life.  I am drowning.  I want to live now!!
This town, this state, is so empty, it clings to us that have any hope.
The picture says it all.  A woman trapped inside barbwire.
The picture was originally meant for Endometriosis Awareness (which I had Stage IV that led to two major surgeries, one of them being my Total Abdominal Hysterectomy), but I erased those words of pain because no one ever listened anyway.
I wanted to give this photograph a new life, an new set of blues.
Enclosed with time that is running faster that life itself.

“How It Feels,” is the bold text that reads aloud. 
Yes, how it feels, a something I no longer have to explain.
Why?  I don’t care to any-longer.
The revelations of myself in this world are too greater for most.
I am not ordinary, regular, normal.
I am complex.  Elevated.  Complicated.
My life is a solar system of pain, mostly darkened with medical tragedy. 
Some PTSD, and deep depression.
But, it’s my mind and soul, what makes me immortal.
My intelligence is vast, and my soul is never ending.

I do yearn to find the others, like me.
One day.  My blues will become gold.


“But now it’s gone, they say, “It doesn’t matter anymore.”
If you build your house then please call me, “Home”.”   Sara by Fleetwood Mac