Some days I just don't have the inspiration that I so badly want. Some days I am exhausted from pouring my bleeding heart onto the keys. A messy clean up and heart open to the environment it bleeds onto. When I started this blog not too long ago, I wanted to be consistent. To pick a day that I would publish a blog and it would be that day every week. Quickly I learned that sometimes I just don't feel like doing it. I think what people forget is that when someone is vulnerable, when someone breaks open their body to spill their secrets, concerns, opinions, thoughts and moments, how draining it sometimes becomes. So here's to "some days" when all we or rather, I, want to do is calm my brains.
Some days
My inspiration and creativity do not flow so effortlessly through my veins and writing a poem (your tribute) is like pulling teeth because I want it to be so perfect
My words sometimes fail me and memories sometimes disappear
I then remember that you lived hard
That 22 years is actually quite long
8,030 days
192,720 hours
11,563,200 minutes
Your life ended short and those numbers are not high enough, but they are something
Your life was not meaningless
For how many breaths you took that ended in a sigh
Or for the love that took your breath away
For the times that the world seemed beautiful
and
for the times that the world seemed dark and unsafe
Minutes that went by too fast or seconds that took forever
Minutes that went by in a foggy shade of gray where time was not important and drugs concealed the truth but made your time seem so much better
Days that went by with confusion and pain and you wished for the end
In whatever the end meant to you at the time
The end of
your broken parts
your illness
your heart your horror
your soul
your life
I wonder, if I could separate the good times from the bad what your "count"up above would be
I'm afraid to ask
If time was never invented we would just move forward endless like an endless river
Never stopping to reflect for there would be no need
but the time you spent here on earth was significant and rich and meaningful and wonderful and disastrous
You were the calm before the storm and you were the hurricane
You were the wind and the rain and the eye and the sun that came after
Time is so important because there isn't enough of it
We always want more and it stops once our breath leaves our body
How do we stay present with time beating it's chest and towering over us
We try
hard
fight for the now and love what we have
Her time meant the world and now her time is endless
I am BrIttany
