Today someone said to me that the light in my eyes has returned. It struck me (in a good way) to hear that. I know the moment that it came back. It was the moment I decided to stop dating.
For three years I’ve bounced from date to date from guy to guy, crashing and burning over and over and over again, convinced in the end that I was incapable of sustaining a romantic relationship, that I was somehow less than, unworthy. The more I dated the more I lost myself.
About a month ago I called it quits, not from exasperation, but from a deep desire to explore my own heart, discover what I love and feed my passions with as much attention as they deserve. For the first time in three years all the pressure is gone and I’m rediscovering the girl I once was, a girl unafraid to sing her spirit, that dances in the car like no one is watching.
I never thought I’d say that the best decision I ever made for myself was to stop dating, after all, we all want to find true love and everyone says the only way to find it is to put yourself out there. But if there’s one lesson I can take away from this last month of soul searching it’s that there’s no hurry.
Take care of yourselves my loves!
Soak up the sunshine. My only advice for the moment.
I looked at the clock around 9:45 tonight and thought, man, I’m going to get to bed early, finally get a decent amount of sleep to kickstart my Monday without watering eyes and sluggish limbs. But then the itch began, the compulsion tingling behind my forehead, radiating to my fingertips, the cusp of a poem aching to spill out. So here we are, an hour later, an hour of sleep lost to creative whims.
Good night, my friends.
Empowerment is writing a poem instead of falling apart. Empowerment is writing a poem in spite of falling apart. Empowerment is falling apart and writing about it the next day.
Good night my friends.
Sometimes routine can blind us from what’s happening around us, good or bad. Don’t forget to open your eyes. Write a poem about it if you can.
The last couple days have been action packed. For one, it was my birthday on Thursday. Secondly, I went on my first business trip. In other words, I grew up a little in the past 48 hours. I like keeping myself busy because it allows for optimum productivity and fun, sticking by the cliche of living every day like it’s my last. But every once and awhile I’m forced into solitude–the three hours I hung out in the airport yesterday and the subsequent three hours on the plane. It’s those moments, when I’m by myself, that the world feels big , and I’m invisible, just an ant in the crowd. Sure, quiet can feel calming at times, like when I curl up with a notebook and spill my feelings, but that’s the kind of quiescence I choose, the kind of quiet that begs for reflection. I wish I could remember to savor that sensation of stillness and learn to live devoid of loneliness. My company should be enough.
This one’s inspired by “Car Radio” by Twenty One Pilots. Quiet is violent.
Today’s poem is inspired by the Twenty One Pilots song with the same title, “Trees.” Their version forces me to reflect on the exact emotions I fight to hide from contemplation, but in that reflection I find the purpose to write my own verse and expel the words that imprison my confidence.
…and if you can figure out what that means, you win 10 points!
Check back every Saturday for a new poem named after a Twenty One Pilots track and as always, check out their music below!