Limbo

No matter how great an evening ends, the demons still make their way back to my bedside. I am haunted by questions and things I want to say, but I am afraid. I'm afraid to push it all further away, to fodder the building of those walls higher and higher until I am completely shut out. There are not words to describe how sorry I am that I failed. Failure seems to be the name of the game around me everywhere, and I have no idea how to succeed at anything but it. How can it be, that the universe puts before me a clear task, and yet I still manage to fail? Of my own creation no less; I have failed because I let emotions get in the way of everything I set out to do. My head was clouded with what I wanted, when I was not meant to want or be wanted; I have never been meant for wanting. Oh how human all these emotions seem, when I feel so disconnected from everything, as if I'm an outsider looking in on my own life, and none of it makes sense to me anymore. This heart that beats in my chest cannot decide whether it wants to let go and drift away, or cling more and more to the hope that has occasionally danced up within me. Move forward, stay back, wait it out... All of these things echo within, and yet a conclusion cannot be reached. Call it fear, call it love, call it destiny... Call it Limbo.   

I am searching for a girl. This girl is beautiful, and when she looks into the mirror she recites her daily mantra reminding herself of this fact. She is calm and centered, and not afraid of the world outside of her window. Her fears do not include intimacy, even when that affection is not returned in kind, as she can move forward throughout her life with grace. Callousness eludes her, as she has no walls or boundaries, only love and an open heart expressing her gratitude for every experience life throws her way. I find her; living deep with in me, miles below the surface. My center in the storm, with arms wrapped tightly around my ego, assuring me that I am strong and can keep the winds at bay.

She walks with me, hand-in-hand as I make my way between the worlds, looking for the door, but only catching glimpses though the double paned windows that do not open. They taunt me with the beauty on either side of me, pulling me toward them to gaze through each one at every various path. Pointing me towards the door, but leaving me without the key to turn the locks. Which door will open for me? When will I finally feel the soft soil of my path beneath my toes, and the cool wind of fortune against my cheek?

Softly whispering, the girl that is me turns, reminding me that I am incredibly unbreakable. Many hammers will only barely chip the tip of the iceberg, leaving the entire mountain below unscathed, waiting to emerge as the water subsides and life begins. Every path looks beautiful to me, and I ache to be making my way down any of them, leaving this world of gray confusion behind me as I slowly fade away into the distant stars... Making my way home... Making my way to clarity.

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I've finally written something, it seems the demons bring with their long time hostage that is my muse. I welcome her back, even in small doses, as I have missed the creativity flowing through me and onto the pages, leaving the small stains of my soul splattered across the page in each and every word. Sorrow is beauty, pure and amazing beauty.