Turbulent Water

Broken and torn
Angry and confused
Reaching for something
And finding no refuge
I am alone at the edge
Waiting for a sign
Hoping for a way
To reach the other side
Desperately clinging
To the life I once knew
I am searching and slipping
Falling
           and
                grasping

Now the mountains cry out
The tracks reappear
I am holding on
And pushing back the tears
The sun rises
and I smile
Reaching up,
I turn and hear
The voice of the angel drawing me near
You are not alone
You are surrounded and loved
We will always be here
No need to feel untouched

Broken and torn
I am back in this place
Seemingly happy
I can find no peace
I forget all I know
And sink back into the caves
In darkness I tread
I am desperately clinging
All over again

(Disclaimer: This was written in about 10 minutes, so its rough and not good. I just wanted to get it out. It's cathartic for me.)

Blocked

Recently, I was told that in order to write again that I needed to choose a place that represented the pain I felt before I was blocked. Let me explain. I used to write a lot of poetry, mostly for myself, but I did write a lot. That was before my mom passed away three years ago. Since then, I have found it difficult to put pen to paper in that way. Even more odd, is that before mom passed, I was in what I would call a happy life. Nothing had gone horribly wrong. I was in school. I had my family and friends. Everything was hunky dory and yet the darkest parts of my soul came out in my writing. Yet, now, when everything is broken and torn, I cannot seem to write.

So that brings us back to this conversation. A wise man asked me if I ever felt things, heard words that called to my soul and terrified me. Well, honestly, his words terrified me, but I realized he was right. Whenever I would write I was always surprised and scared by the things that I had written. It was so odd to be writing such depressing work when I myself had no depression. So this man suggested that I find a place to write that represented my pain. He suggested an abandoned warehouse or place with awful smells to evoke my pain and feelings. I was completely scared by this and still am. Yet, this intrigues me. 

So for this weekend I am going to try and do that. I just wanted to post this update of my life and hope that by doing this I can get back to writing.

BYE!

-BP