Tuesday, December 30, 2014

I had this dream....

Childhood memories swirl around me, birthday parties, summer camping
Family holidays spent with good hearts, we weren't rich, but we weren't lacking
No one was left wanting, or so it seemed to me
But sometimes wounds hide too deep for anyone to see
Detail isn't important, truth be told, I didn't want to remember,
I spent minutes, days, and years perfecting my recipe to forget
Cold with fear, denial, disbelief and without hope
I realized that as a human, I could not cope
I could pretend, though, and as long as I did, maybe no one would get hurt
And they would never know, couldn't ever know
That they were touching dirt
I made so many choices knowing before I chose that I'd choose wrong
But I didn't care, I couldn't care, It was too damn hard to stand up strong
But those things came back to haunt me, and against a wall, I embraced the pain
I turned myself around, and swore I'd never go back again
Now detail isn't important, truth be told, I really can't remember
I spend minutes, days, and years willing myself to never forget
Warmed with courage, acceptance and belief, I found some hope,
I realize I am human, and I'm working very hard to cope,
I can't pretend, though, because as long as I do it's only me whose getting hurt
And I always know, can't ever not know,
That the world outside avoids me, afraid that they might touch the dirt
I find myself wondering as I take life minute by minute, day by day
Will this taint, the feeling of uncleanliness ever really go away?
I see the looks on faces and I feel those whispered words
People think they're talking quietly, but I assure you that I heard
You say the details aren't important, truth be told, you always remember
You've spent minutes, days and years making sure no one forgets
Is it your fears, denial and disbelief that try to steal my meager hope?
Please remember I am human, and still struggling to cope
I'm not asking you to pretend, though, because it was you that I hurt
Because of all I know, and all you know,
I will just ask for some forgiveness, help me wash away the dirt
It's a rare person who really sees me, underneath my dirt and grime
Who treats me like I have value, and that I'm worth their time
It's a beautiful, heady feeling to be met with no expectations
I'm grateful I can share some time without any explanations
She says details aren't important , truth be told she doesn't mind
She's spent minutes, days and years looking for what she could not find
She has enough courage, acceptance and belief to help maintain my hope
She knows that I am human, and I have the tools to cope
There is no more pretending, but there's always the risk for hurt
But I will know, and she will know
I am worth more than the dirt

This blog post is mainly for me, since I am the only one who comes here, anyhow. I wrote this poem after waking up from a dream I was having. I wish I could remember the melody that was supposed to go with it, but I don't. I don't have enough of a musical gift to write actual tunes, anyhow. I wrote it from a male perspective, because in my dream, it was a young man who was struggling with the issue that he was ostracized from society, and even friends and family due to the poor choices he had made. I wasn't him in the dream, I was more of an observer. He met a girl in this dream, just as I was waking up. A beautiful girl, who was not hesitant to touch him at all. On further reflection now, though, I am kind of wondering if this wasn't supposed to end differently. Maybe he died, and she was an angel? They were both in white, the whole typical, schmaltzy ending with the breeze blowing the hair and the loose white clothing. Hmm. Now I might have to write a depressing alternate ending to this. 

Saturday, December 13, 2014

bring on 2015, already

I'm not completely in the Bah, Humbug mode. No one with a 3 year old should be allowed to fully enter that zone.
I am ready to be done with this year, though. More than ready.
2014 will always be the year my Dad died. And my Grandmother. Those events do overshadow everything that happened in this year.
That doesn't mean that fun wasn't had, things weren't accomplished, and we didn't enjoy our lives.
I think it means that we actually enjoyed those things more.
Eventually. And only sometimes, probably
There are times when my involvement was "phoned in", because I was just too sad, or too numb, or too unsure of how I was "supposed" to be. I don't usually care about things like that. But when you're emotionally bankrupt, you find yourself caring and wondering about the stupidest, littlest things. Because those are easier to care about than the big, ugly dark things.
The numbness is slowly fading, as I dig myself out of this year, and we approach what it the "fresh start" that we are promised with each new year. I am ready to put 2014 to bed.
I think.