If I could string my thoughts together, in one long ribbon of silent ideas and memories, it would fill up all the rooms in my house. I could wrap ten thousand Christmas presents inside of my mind, and have some left over to tie up my future daughter's hair. I hold my thoughts highly, they make up who I am. I choose the thoughts that I wish to share carefully, sometimes. Sometimes they spill out and I forget to stop them from falling to the floor. I often hold too many thoughts.
I have learned that glass breaks. While starting fires and soothing broken hearts. I have heard the sound of breaking glass. I have felt the shards of broken glass beneath my bare feet as I walk through my kitchen to get a cup of tea. My kitchen is not quite large enough to walk through. I stand in a corner of it, I am standing in the whole thing.
I have never found the sun appalling, yet I have asked to live in rooms without windows. The darkness reminds me to appreciate the light. Silence, living alone with me, with its arms around me and its breath on my neck, allows me to get to know the strangers in my head. The words I don't understand, the demons that I wish weren't there. I get to know my demons, and when I break open the walls to find the sun glaring in my eyes, there is more peace inside of me than there was before.
I am a grade A liar. I can smile through tears and cry through laughter. I lie to say that I am not lying. I lie to say that I am okay. It is easier not to speak when tears well up in the back of your throat and your voice cracks as if you are singing through a ninety year old microphone. It is easier if they don't ask.
I wish I could smile and be happy for the world in a time of such progress and growth. There are monsters on this planet and wars being fought, but some things are changing. I wish I could congratulate them.
And if I could, I would dance with wolves. I would sing their great songs to the moon and tell her she is beautiful and loved and should never stop lighting up our night. I imagine wolves are wonderful dancers.
I have learned that glass breaks. While starting fires and soothing broken hearts. I have heard the sound of breaking glass. I have felt the shards of broken glass beneath my bare feet as I walk through my kitchen to get a cup of tea. My kitchen is not quite large enough to walk through. I stand in a corner of it, I am standing in the whole thing.
I have never found the sun appalling, yet I have asked to live in rooms without windows. The darkness reminds me to appreciate the light. Silence, living alone with me, with its arms around me and its breath on my neck, allows me to get to know the strangers in my head. The words I don't understand, the demons that I wish weren't there. I get to know my demons, and when I break open the walls to find the sun glaring in my eyes, there is more peace inside of me than there was before.
I am a grade A liar. I can smile through tears and cry through laughter. I lie to say that I am not lying. I lie to say that I am okay. It is easier not to speak when tears well up in the back of your throat and your voice cracks as if you are singing through a ninety year old microphone. It is easier if they don't ask.
I wish I could smile and be happy for the world in a time of such progress and growth. There are monsters on this planet and wars being fought, but some things are changing. I wish I could congratulate them.
And if I could, I would dance with wolves. I would sing their great songs to the moon and tell her she is beautiful and loved and should never stop lighting up our night. I imagine wolves are wonderful dancers.
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