brown and orange

they told me stories of whom i am, i told stories of who i am
i gazed at the world full of wonder, amazed i smiled trough my tears
i wrote and wrote, words like beads on a string
orange and brown in our back yard golden string in golden sun
i was in pain, still am, yet silent, i have no beads i feel
there still is wonder, beauty, and more love than ever
there still is pain, embarrassment, low self esteem
tons of bricks lying around, once they flew trough air, once i was struck
once i was on the ground, bleeding out, once i crossed the line
and returned with poetry
my silence had been broken, pieces of me i put on a string, wove stories
i created worlds and struggled to live there and not to live there
now i am struggling to put my silence on the string
/.../
i can no more see the string nor beads, no angels, no worlds
just hazy delusions and ravelings and shame
of not being the way i should be
even when i am hearing the words "you are good" i can not accept them
i want to, i fight to believe, i cry
i am crying out an iceberg
it will melt. for now there is love.
and i will write. want to. will. there are some... waiting, who read
listen. love. care. i still remember you. my world, my wonder, my love.
thank you.



Inspiration Sarah Key on TED, If I had a daughter