goodbye, two thousand and eleven.

2012.
it's time to find rest here.
it's time for peace.
the shalom kind.
health.
wholeness.
a quiet heart.
a lifestyle of love that kicks out fear.
it's time for forgiveness.
this year has involved some people who have wounded me deeply.
but it's time to stop hiding them and pretend they didn't happen.
to release all of these hurts that i haven't gotten over.
because it's turning to bitterness and i can feel my heart going numb.
it's time to learn to say no.
it's time to stand up for myself in a healthy way.
but it's also time to abandon hiding and self preservation.

there's this proverb that says: "The human spirit can endure a sick body,
but who can bear a crushed spirit?" (proverbs 18:14)

there have been times this year when i've expressed that to people i've allowed to be close to me. i've posted signs saying, "right now, please tread softly here in this area. this is thin ice. please, be respectful. please, be cautious. please, be overly aware." and they disregarded all of it. and the moment i expressed my feelings, i was met with defensiveness or remorse. only for it all to happen again. and again. and again.

they just don't get it, no matter how often i spell it out and sit them down.
so this year, i'm saying...
STOP.
STOP.
no.
JUST. STOP.
because
there is so much here...
so many wonderful things. new and old.
i'm in love.
and honestly, i'd really just like to be able to relax in it.
i'm tired of feeling threatened.
i'm tired of feeling inadequate.
because i allow myself to feel that way...
AND
because i allow people to make me feel that way.

enough is enough.

and so, my new years' resolution is to allow myself to be loved.
let go of some unhealthy situations.
and make the wonderful people in my life a priority.
the ones who make me a priority.
and being a people pleasing personality, this is harder than you might think.

"there will come a time, you'll see... with no more tears and love will not break your heart, but DISMISS your fears. Get over your hill and see what you find there, with grace in your heart and flowers in your hair."

12:30

run away with me in the night
til we get to the edge of the sea
footprints only to be stolen by the receding tide
or to the starry hill
or hide away in my room
make the music drown out the noise
nothing but smiling faces
and that feeling when my nose is buried in your neck
like everything is speeding up
and everything is slowing down
all at the same time
and your eyes start talking
saying i'm safe here
saying it's all turned right
no guards
no fears
just us
bathed in lights

they've all been there, i think
she makes the waves come strong
she makes the words flow quickly
too much light in the retina…
and she'll help me plan the escape route
help me to slip away and disappear
put on the straight jacket
or quietly shrink to the bedroom
pretend, like a madwoman that you saw nothing
that it doesn't exist
swirling motions like whirlpools
and i can see that look in his eyes
he's a little worried
they can sense the truth that we try to ignore
feel the timidity on our skin
taste the fear on our brow
the panic simmering just beneath the surface
you all have your escape patterns
you all have your crutches
and mock me when i walk with a limp
my eyes glazed like donuts
no one will notice.
the warmth evaporated
so crawl into bed and i'll stay there hidden
don't ask.
don't tell.
just hide.
my stories unheard
my thoughts unprocessed
those songs unwritten
a good woman, unwanted
now let's pretend it's all science
let's pretend it all exists
let's pretend i feel nothing
pretend like a madman that you saw nothing
and i'll write out of it
that abyss.
they've all been there, i think
she makes the waves come strong
she makes the words flow quickly
too much light in the retina…
eyes closed.

...

there's that beautiful laughing face. and even when not smiling, there's laughter in her eyes. the corners of her mouth begging to come up. she's happy. at rest and happy.

she'd been awake for a day, at least. jet-lagged. sleep deprivation marked her face. he was so nervous... talking too fast and then too little... he was "awestruck by her beauty". he said.

words like those don't go easily.

there's this split. equal parts hope and fear.
damn the word, fear and its cold hands and ability to woo a healthy beautiful young woman into a paralytic. its ability to change the atmosphere from that of bright sun to impending hurricane.
i'll spit the names from my mouth with all of the blame.
and leave room for shadows.
all this talk of fighting makes me want to fight every last one who would make a mockery of my love and attempt to entice it from me. greedy mouths feasting on their cake and stealing mine too. and though that fear may shake me, i will stand with clenched teeth and tears. eyes open. i will not move to hold anyone back. i will not cling. i cannot make anyone stay. i cannot move any heart to love. control is an illusion. and it is not my duty to fight here.
but to you who call me your friend. who speak of love. who lie to my face. who disregard commitment and twist daggers. who have no respect for these things.
and you for enticing it. for beckoning. for playing with fire.
i'd rather bloody your face for the betrayal.
i have to bite my tongue from cursing...
and so silent...
yeah, no more.
because, all of this hits too close to home.
repeat.
repeat.
repeat.
and i intend on cutting the tape.
erase my memory.
of a ring on my finger and an invitation to celebrate the first year...
and i am met by silence.
silence like that doesn't go easily.
and ring in the new year
to have your beloved disappear.
silence like that doesn't go easily.
every.
last.
one.
and now, i'm asked to ignore every ounce of intuition
every alarm bell ringing
every intonation in or out of context
close my eyes and smile like a woman at rest.
well.
send.
them.
away.
and tell it to me slow...
words like that don't go easily.
or stain the air with silence.
...

nothing new. just a reminder.

"To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket -- safe, dark, motionless, airless -- it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, inpenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell." - c.s. lewis

wake up o sleeper.

it's looking pretty magical around here. this is the men's side of the salon.


i'm going to start by saying, i really love my new job.

not only that, but the people i work with are just lovely, as well.

very encouraging.

one of our top stylists cut my hair yesterday and she did an amazing job. (obviously.)

my hair, however, is being saved from a very sad state. essentially, my hair has broken off and thinned out because of stress. it's now a smidgen past my shoulders when straight.

wake. up. nitasha.

the past year and a half has been really taxing in so many ways. and i hate to say it, but my piano playing and singing has fallen to the wayside. i mean, there are some good things that have happened and that needed my attention... and though i have been writing, i've done nothing to make them become tangible pieces. my social life has dwindled down, as well. partly because i've been so used to working with friends at a restaurant, and now that isn't the case. partly, because i'm just a bit of a homebody. i've also gone from running around like a mad-woman, to staying predominantly seated during my work day. UGH. nopity. nope. nope.
so it's time to make things move.

i've gotten back into the kitchen some, thanks to pinterest and have made some super yummy treats, including oreo truffles, pumpkin cheesecake, and last night's homemade hot chocolate. DE-LISH.

i've also got the itch to take more photos and get back into some art, as well.

i am on a quest to find a place in nashville that has some seriously good yoga, pilates, dance and kickboxing. whether this is a gym or not, matters not so much to me. i would rather run outside, anyway.

and i need to take a little more 'me' time.

feel a little less guilty for vegging out on the couch to watch a movie or to get caught up on gossip girl or my new fetish, the new girl.
and a vacation needs to be imminent. i mean, in the dead of winter... before spring comes and after christmas. and what with one of my best girlfriends living in kingston jamaica? i mean... more on that later.

it's like i've been laid out after some damage has happened to my heart.

but bed rest time is over.

it's time to work this thing out, and really get going again.

wake. up. nitasha.

s a b o t a g e [own it and turn]

if you listen carefully, you'll hear it

look closely, it's in plain sight

the detachment.

the push.

the sabotage.

dressed up in all kinds of fancy costumes.

impostor. posing.

unmasked. exposed for what you really are.

humility is plated and served with silver cutlery.

because, after all, i am mostly to blame here.

let's not throw the baby out with the bathwater, though.

no lashes. no jail time.

just own it and turn.

hang the fear from the gallows.

tie the insecurities to the stake and watch them burn.

but beware friends and lovers, the ghosts will haunt the place

the spirits of lies will whisper until you hear them.

they'll slam doors in the middle of the night until you deal with them.

until the wrongs are made right.

own them and turn.

hurled fists to the wall.

and they drew a line down my wrists.

spelling out a reminder of what really is.

and they handed out validation tickets for anger.

and validation tickets for fear.

but they are meant only for passing through...

not meant to keep me here.

not meant to be hired on as some servant of depression

those heavy invisible hands stealing away my heart...

the alarms have been ringing

i just keep ignoring them all.

but the silence here pushes me further into those arms.

and the looks of scorn not intended for me...

but i receive.

and i must work for the kindness that i dole out freely?

for the care.

for the concern.

and i'm exhausted by loneliness

and attempting to win a love i cannot earn.

to keep what cannot be stolen.

to save what won't be lost.

but that silence speaks volumes to the wounds in my heart.

and the careless words reinforce my doubts.

and on the stars and on the ones

i make wishesand exhaling. offering...

prayers to the God of my life

out of the roaring in my soul

out of the tremors in new bones

out of the visions in my head

out of the dreamings of dread

out of the history repeating

out of the present tug of war

out of the darkness comes light

to own it and turn it

and swallow it whole

and a joy to replace it

and a grip in my hands to hold it

thanksgiving flooding my mouth

for that sweet one asleep on my lap

for the strong arms

that my heart will be held in yours

kept safe

no running

no sabotage

do not be afraid.

let's.

ps.

kiiinda miss london sometimes.

ok... [it's been too long]

i love this season. autumn - thanksgiving - christmas. i've never been a big shopper for black friday, probably because i've never had a wallet full of extra cash with which to spend. also, i can sometimes get social anxiety in massive pushy crowds. cyber monday? let's play. meanwhile, i'm sitting at this dining room table, which belongs to my housemate and is really nice at first glance, but super awkward. why? only 2 of the four chairs in the circle push in all the way. along with writing this, i'm sipping... well ... was sipping yuengling out of a now empty bottle, and savouring every page turn of the december issue of british vogue. i look forward to this every month more than i can say. and thankfully, there is now a barnes & noble far closer than before which makes my heart very happy. simple things, like bookstores. call me crazy, but i'd much rather have a book or a magazine in my hands than a nook thing. tablets are neat. but for reading, not my style.

i.am.a.purist.

so i live just outside of nashville in a place called antioch. immediately, for most locals, this conjures up mental images of wannabe thugs and crime and drug dealers and a make believe mall where hardly anyone goes unless you want your car broken into and/or to be a candidate to be shot inside. it's kind of not that serious. but it kind of is.

however, i live in a lovely roomy 1300something square foot apartment with my dream garden soaker tub for half of what i paid for a decent condo closer to downtown. and right now? i'm trying to be a bit more practical. but i was thinking the other day how much potential antioch has. it has it's nice bits (like mine) and it's not so nice bits. i think it just needs a few things...

- since we're on the subject, let's begin with a barnes & noble

- a real shopping center with actual stores people like, as opposed to another nail shop, loan place and cricket phone or the like.

- a gym. a nice one. just. sayin.

- another publix and at least 1 whole foods and/or trader joes and one classy kroger.

- some kind of bongo java group coffee place.

- a real movie theatre.

- chik-fil-a

- more tasty cuisine options that are found only in nashville... or the south, even. i mean, how is it that smyrna has a better looking cluster of shopping options and food places than antioch?

- a j alexanders. just for good measure.

- annnnd a few more cashiers at wal-mart after 9pm.

- a few classy little boutiques.

- a victoria's secret.

- and last but not least, pie in the sky.

is that asking too much?

you can do it, antioch! not saying i wanna live here forever, but it would make things just a little sweeter in the meantime.

lend me your ear and i'll sing you a song...

there is a deadbolt on my tongue. the pounding of the fists of my heart can be heard echoing through the halls. my eyes are always talking and giving me away. but i will firmly deny everything under that swaying lamp. will you pull up a chair and listen to me search the dark corners of doubt in my mind? or will you interject with objections like a prosecuting attorney? will you calm my fears or send them running full-speed on a hamster wheel of catch 22s. i am my own worst bully pushing faster and faster on the merry-go-round. less merry. more dizzy spells. heart heavy from the chains wrapped round to weigh it down and keep it quiet. the belly of the beast is starved for affection. and i keep feeding it criticisms. shouting abuse at my own reflection. ashamed of my weaknesses, i have abandoned patient regard. ashamed of my mistrust i will push away harder to create the rejections i try to avoid. all subliminal mind you. all moving like a pendulum set in motion... under which i am screaming my head off wanting desperately to move. the senselessness of the distortion would be hysterically funny if it wasn't so incredibly sad. brainwashed to believe the silliest of notions like some white robed cult follower... and it's my own hands pouring the poisoned elixir in my cup.

birds eye view. sway under the weight. the winds of change are blowing but not in the direction that i expect. standing on their soap boxes preaching truth with a mouth full of lies. tattooing their creed against injustice on the same hands that will throw the blows to the innocent. the alluring mouths beneath wide pleading eyes begging for entry to your trust... that they will destroy if given the chance. does anyone fight for anything good anymore? does anyone protect beautiful things? or just glorify the cheap quick thrills that are attractive for a moment and leave you rotting from the inside out. like senseless zombies devouring each other. and it all just feels desperately lonely... hope giving way to cynicism in the middle of a dark moment... a thick darkness like in the story of the egyptian plague...

when a hand takes mine. the silent, familiar, steady hand...

everything's not lost. perspective. grace. an ear... "start from the beginning and take as long as you need..."

i will try not to sing out of key.

i love my house, i love my nest...

human beings are big ol weirdies. most especially me. always finding myself in catch 22s. can't write because i'm emotionally blocked up. when i need a release and i'm brimming with ideas, i'm afraid of what will come out. or maybe i'm afraid of being completely redundant. frustrated at the fact that i'm still learning my abc's of love. and what? when i thought i was understanding algebraic equations and well versed? HAH! i have much to learn.

in the meantime, i have been swallowed whole by the beast that is Pinterest. feel free to find me!! i will say, i'm slightly concerned about my involvement as i'm tapping my inner martha stewart/homemaker. but i kind of like it.

happy halloweeny jelly beany!

this is my kinda halloween. watching bewitched or the munsters or hitchcock episodes while drinking spiced wine/apple cider... maybe octoberfest beer... maybe some popcorn... maybe pumpkin seeds. i am positive that i am in the minority, but this zombie/slaughtering/guts&gore thing is getting real tired. what happened to good ol fashioned ghosts and frankenfun and great pumpkins? good thing many of these things are streaming on netflix.

final pleas(e). [while the little ones slept]

teach me how to be still

be here

and disappear completely

to remember what should be so obvious

but it's all wrong and in my head

the checks need balancing

and the balancing needs checking

and God, my heart is hungry

for a meaning i won't forget

or to know i'm not forgotten

that the invitation is still good

that my push will be ignored

because somehow it's understood

because i'm acting out

because i feel misunderstood

like my heart is lost in translation

like a child too young to speak

or just like the rest of us

broken...

running...

scared as hell

and pushing.

pushing away and fighting the tender touches

that should make us safe

trying not to remember

all the wrong things

analyse all the small things

remember and impose my fears

but i'm imposing!

and need reassuring

and need to hear it til i don't remember.

a hand to steady the trembling

just wait til the tremors stop

no walls resurrected

no guards sent to taunt

just come sit down beside me

hear me.

see me.

and be patient with my heart.

tread softly.

should anything happen here

it will be on your head

and i will call out your name

long after all has been said

and the peace is disturbed

like the waves in my brain

and collapse from the strain

i'll not tell it again

just make lines from the stain

gentle fingers turn to fists

and i've lost the courage to throw them

imagine the look on their faces

wall flower i am not

damsel in distress - never.

manipulation empress -

i should be.

because in this world they get what they want.

jezebels turning heavens to hells

careful, the fury is waking up

careful, when i feel enough is enough.

mine. [field]

fingerprints fading from the glass walls.

mine.

can't compare with indelible marks and scratches

the mended breaks that insight your response.

your regard.

your care.

your defense.

your thought.

your rage…

and so on.

and if i am angry it is taken as weakness

and if i am sad, just a fragile actress.

and if i am happy well, then all is right within these worlds.

my words fall unheard. like flakes of snow

awake to the drifts that collected in the night while they slept.

my nightmares have become hunters that stalk when i am awake.

but i won't leave a trace from this exhausted chase.

my thoughts take shape and would form sound

that would fill the room

but there is no sound

dumb.

smiling mime. unheard. unkept.

so take this home and watch it wither and die.

weary of playing god assessing and reassessing the value of it's life

who am I?

make that case lower.

and teetering like a child on the playground, constantly ignoring and excusing the symptoms. the seriousness.

laugh it off as folly while the shadows haunt me in the night

remind me in the day

and pull away

away.

away.

and watch the fingerprints and breath fading from the glass walls

mine.

processing.

you are feeling very sleepy...

i feel like i just woke up to find that for the last few months, i've been walking around under hypnosis believing that this goldfish bowl is the whole sea.

perhaps work and trying to get finances under control has been the clock that i've been following. my dreams are no longer full of fantastic fantasies that could easily come from lemony snicket or cs lewis or even the latest action flick in which i'm running for my life and slinging guns like a bond girl. my head is no longer filled with songs and rhythms and swelling symphonies and little songs. the light in my eyes has been stolen and filled with suspicion. i've forgotten how to be a beautiful woman at rest who artfully unveils her beauty in a multitude of ways and instead, i've dumbed it down to a routine of being just another needy and insecure person who puts her prettiest pieces of flesh on display. grasping. flailing. surrounding myself with all the wrong sorts of things.

my song was love... it is now a silent film of fear.

the world is my oyster and i am crippled by fear of losing and failing...

i have become my own worst critic and my own worst enemy,

driving the light out...

i miss...

you know what?

it's not the time to miss or wish.

it's not the time for regret.

it's not the time for waste.

it's time to wake up and move into this new day spread out like a feast before me.

it's time to revel and bask...

in love himself.

in my love.

in my family.

in my friends.

it's time for mini sweet escapes.

it's time for brunches and coffee dates with my best friends.

it's time for adventures.

it's time to get lost on purpose.

it's time to dance.

it's time to sleep in and cuddle.

it's time to release the fear...

the hurts...

the what-ifs...

the hysterical attempt to make everyone happy.

it's time to relish in fashion magazines and art projects and old movies.

it's time to be with people who bring the best out of me and i, them.

it's time to disassociate with people who teach me to hide.

it's time to write.

it's time to learn.

it's time to sing.

it's time to play.

it's time to release.

it's time to love.

it's time to be.

i feel like i just woke up from a dream where i've been fearful of thieves.

but everything is in its right place.

everything is here or on its way.

i have everything i need. nothing is missing.

nothing has been stolen...

nothing but my joy and peace.

but, they've found their way home to me.

hush.

hush little baby

don't say a word

not even with your eyes

they say too much

face tells too much

like if the walls of your soul could talk

they do

and they will.

lighthearted

assisted in defying gravity

and it isn't you

not sure what the combination

but it isn't you.

but it is...

the little house is now a home

and your inexperience mistaken for naivety

all this talking over your head

incessant secrets

told to walls that don't talk

because they don't and they won't

the kind that sweat

the kind that hold dust close like static cling

for fear they'll tell everything

quiet little baby

humming to yourself

don't say a word

not even with your eyes

they say too much

face tells too much

like if the walls of your soul could talk

they do

and they will.

doldrums. [waiting in the library]

sometimes it feels like the winds just won't blow...

or maybe you've just been shipwrecked

or like you're all dressed up for sailin' and swimming... and it's just a bit wrong...

and in these moments, we can get down and sad...

or just get busy making new plans and building new boats in the library

you're a lucky man, my son.

he's a lucky man.

is he?

they say that all the time.

ever noticed?

but heads will roll

away all the time

turn your face from me.

no.

but darting glances.

are there question marks above missed chances?

thanks for letting me borrow the expression.

thanks for letting me bury my confession.

it seems a kind word and a soft touch is…

foreign

like a dying breed

on the extinction list

dear darling girl,

take all of your anxieties and misconceptions about yourself and bury them.

throw them to the wind.

because you were always chosen over that one.

over this one.

it's my secret.

the secret that i know.

it's the simple fact that you will always be the belle of the ball.

there will always be your figure casting shadows on the wall

you will always be one of the faces

one of the names of the voices in the back of my head

and i will walk around unsure

pretending to be very sure

that he's a lucky man.

is he?

fighting with the wolves.

i've lost my mind here.

i've lost my patience with it all.

the fuel light is on. and there's nothing left to fill it with.

i'll let you know when a miracle happens.

a litter box and fruit flies.

there is always music in my head. going into it. swimming around in it. flying out of it. pretty much always. new songs. old songs. and little jingles and melodies in between. and so, it catches my attention when i get in my car (which doubles as a music box on wheels) and realize that after 10 minutes of driving, i have yet to put on music. in fact, it hasn't even occurred to me. worse still, that after this thought is digested and tweeted, i climb back into this wind tunnel of a think tank and still don't reach for the ipod.

alert. something is wrong.

one day i lost this healthy balance of self-acceptance in my life. i dont remember when that day was or what triggered it exactly. i mean, i think too much self love makes one egotistical. a little insecurity never hurt anyone... in fact, it often pushes us to be better. causes us to hold hands with humility. keeps us in check, if you will. but this healthy balance of self-acceptance (flaws and beautiful things and ordinary in between) is really easy for me to lose. to juggle.

and sometimes these insecurities get the best of me when i'm not looking.

i think i always had this idea that all of these nagging feelings of inadequacy would leave when i got a bit older. like i'd grow out of them... like some sort of allergy.

and i still hope they do.

but mostly, i'm convinced it's sometimes in exercising your mind to think a certain way. to dwell on certain things. to refuse to dwell on other things. because feeding on lies or distortions about yourself is like leaving fruit out in a kitchen. next thing you know, it's infested with fruit flies. and on this, i speak from experience. it would seem my housemate forgot some limes from a party a few weeks ago. and as she is out of town, i have had the lovely task of discovering the art of annihilating fruit flies.

fun town. (really, i wish i could borrow a fleet of trained hungry little lizards and tree frogs. but it would be my luck, they'd eat the buffet and then get lost in my apartment forever.)

or have you ever been in a house where someone had a cat... maybe 2 or more? and they weren't so very good at keeping the litter box clean?

your noses are cute and wrinkled and your gag reflexes are doing wonderfully well.

the litter box is proooobably in the deepest darkest furthest corner in the basement, but you'll smell it like it's hanging from the front door.

this is what it's like when we stay in the wrong way of thinking.

both the smell and the flies are annoying and bothersome and just plain gross. and it won't leave or stay isolated or be covered up... they grow and multiply respectively.

until you clean it and keep it clean.

it's out of hand.

it's stifling.

and more than anything it's hurting my heart.

and kicking the music out of my head.

"Summing it all up, friends, I'd say you'll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious—the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse. Put into practice what you learned from me, what you heard and saw and realized. Do that, and God, who makes everything work together, will work you into his most excellent harmonies."

heard.

let me see, tonight.

now and then.

i think we took the long way to avoid the traffic.

and all i know is that i was nervous. a thousand emotions came flooding back, but with some sort of distant tone.

and all i know is that i picked up my phone and messaged a best friend who would understand.

i didn't understand the casual nature of her response.

i didn't understand why, though i was nervous, i wasn't completely freaking out.

i didn't care if i impressed him.

i just wanted to revisit the scene.

i just wanted to see…

i walked up to the gate. the same.

i heard the footsteps and pretended to be absorbed in my phone.

i saw his face and remembered.

remembered.

like recalling a distant dream.

the conversations came easy.

we ate. we drank and were merry.

and we recalled the past…

the not so merry part…

or rather, i did…

i just wanted to see.

and forgiveness is a choice, after all…

and after tonight i'd leave that grave behind.

i found myself comparing the similarities.

and realized i was with a shadow of your past.

i saw a man who had let me in.

i saw a man who had received one too many blows.

i saw a man with a loyal heart…

and somewhere in there…

somewhere in his mind's eye he saw that i wasn't the same as all the others.

and he chose to run.

he didn't choose to stay, then.

which brings us to now.

i heard him speak of her…

but from behind the walls.

i heard him speak to her…

but from behind the walls.

and it made me a little sad.

sad to see him still there.

but hopeful that he'd find his way out someday…

like you did.

and i heard myself speak of you…

and i felt the butterflies swarm upward

the rush of blood to the head

and i couldn't wait to tell you again…

and you could hear it in my voice.

you could see it in my eyes.

i could feel myself light up

and i wanted you to feel it...

i wrote this song a while ago with the line,

"and we cried and we cried cause it was good to go free."

and back in the flat, looking over a deserted camden town

i cried and cried because it's so good to be free.

i took my heart to a place where the hurt ran deep

and it didn't hurt anymore

something beautiful has happened here.

something beautiful has begun…

love sent fear packing.

and i don't want it to ever let me go.

it's morning here.

i wrote it down once

i said that if it ever happened to me

i'd search the dictionary for words to explain

and i wouldn't stop til the language was exhausted

and all i can do is absorb the peace

it fell like the dew in the morning

we were just contented in our houses

behind our walls

or pretending to be

like modern man looking at everything through a lens

and someone threw open a window

all i can do is breathe in hallelujahs

all my tongue can speak is thanks

every corner illuminated with enchantment

the southern heavy heated summer nights can't suffocate it

and the rains can't wash it away

rather dance in it

and i could dance all night

it feels like all of the stars are the soundtrack

filled in with laughter spilling from the heavens

like a rainy season after a draught

and then, i find myself quiet

moved.

and unsure of what to say

content to be reticent

a quiet peace mingling in the flames

it sounds like all of my favorite songs

all of my favorite sounds

ebbs and flows

arms outstretched

happy to be overcome by this…

this orchestra weaving it's symphonies around me

like when we stood being wrapped up together

they danced around us

and some things blur

and some things become clearer

and some things disappear completely

and so many things unseen are waiting for us

waiting for us to make them move

and the truth is...

i miss you.

london calling. i answered.

i feel it's been a while. probably because i've been in a season of constant change. and i'm just letting all of these waves sort of wash over me. trying to soak in it all. trying to verbalize it. but i assure you, it's just under the surface... just in a place where i'm pondering all of these things.

yesterday, i boarded a plane to london. my nervousness usually begins a day before departure, but, this time, it started sneaking in about a week ago or so. i dont think i've ever felt so sick on a flight. i kept eyeing the brown air-sickness bag. yikes. i didn't sleep a wink... just watched films. 2 rom-coms, 1 comedy and 2 tv shows to be precise. and you know what? usually when watching romantic comedies, i get a little melancholy and perhaps wistful... thinking, "aw, perhaps someday..." or "i want to feel that", but for the first time, i could identify with these stories unfolding. i think it's one of the first times i've fully enjoyed those kinds of films because my own heart was full.

so we landed late... and i think my cab driver had been up for ages, because he kept falling asleep at the wheel. this little baby was praying for sure. got to the flat, and i'm so happy to see that matt is continuing his efforts to take over the world. i slept for a bit, then ventured out, finally. a man stopped me, to ask for directions... he was, as he put it, sure that i MUST be a londoner... i looked like a londoner. and he was so surprised that i wasn't... as though i'd completely fooled him. i took it as a high compliment.

the first of gigs is tomorrow night...

the point of this trip, mainly being to get this musical ball rolling again.

but, i'm feeling like a little kid with pebbles staring down goliath or something.

and my heart feels a bit more mousey than that of a lion.

i would like to say how thankful i am for an amazing boyfriend who is absolutely incredibly encouraging... and behind me a thousand percent. so thankful for those family members and friends who have been hyper-sensitive to my heart and who have been so so uplifting.

"these hands don't work, but yours will do just fine. tonight, i'll leave myself behind and run into your light. i am broken, but that's just your type."

welp. here goes....

revel.

what i would give to stop being so afraid of abandonment and just let these good things settle in my heart.

merry month of may. [introducing...]

sunny days off...

playtime before work...

bathtime.

i am smitten.

fire escape

slip out the door,

two by two...

running off like fugitives

under cover

out of sight.

no guesses made.

no excuses.

no fights.

just closed young things,

blooming in the night.

on fire.

deaf to the ticking clocks

and healed of the bruises on their hearts.

no prying eyes,

no eager ears.

he let the words spill out down her cheeks

sending away all that was scared in her tender veins

her eyes like mirrors without distortion

he likes the way she sees him

he follows her regard

trees twirling past

and everything is alright

he begs her lips to kiss

he begs her heart to speak

'say that i'm your baby'

'say it's not nothing'

'say that i'm the right one'

'and when you've said it all, my lover'

'say it all again'

and all the world fades slow from view

dropping down like a sunset

but only for just a moment

last call for the trains to depart

last call for boarding

hands unclasped

minds unravelled

the reappearance of hearts so bruised

quietly resume routine

time ticks in their ears

pushing distance

pushing space

pushing and pulling them back to their place

back to their cues

one step

one step more

alone again

slip in the door.