Anxiety

Sweaty palms and a fast beating heart. I am always looking around. Searching for something familiar but there is nothing. Only heavy breath that wont come out. My skin is screaming and I feel sick to my stomach. I am cracking a smile hoping that the sheer terror wont come barrelling out of me. I cant stop pulling my hair and twisting the ends around my fingers. I want to go home where everything is safe, where I know everyone. Cold, cold air on my face is what keeps me from losing it. Maybe the cold draws my attention away from my insides. I dont know I just know that it helps, some. 

::I didnt do the full ten minutes on this one even though I should have. ::

A true story

Christmas came fast, almost without warning. A little tree sat excited in an old lot. When the rush of families came to search for that one perfect tree all the little tree's friends would hold their branches high and mighty. But the little tree just sat happily waiting for the right family to come. All the little tree wanted was a nice warm home and people to look at him adoringly and lovingly. He just wanted to make someone smile. The weeks went by and soon almost all the little tree's friends were gone. He had weathered through the cold December still clinging onto all hope that he would be taken to a home. 

Christmas was so close and he was almost alone in the lot. All his friends were in homes beautifully decorated basking in the warmth of the Christmas spirit. The little tree began to wonder if he was cut down for nothing. He wondered if he would spend his Christmas alone in the old lot. 

Then, just days before Christmas, a man and a girl came strolling through the lot. They stopped to look at the little tree. He heard a voice say, "This one is cute. I think she'll like it." A rush of excitement ran through the tree as he was picked to be someones Christmas tree! 

The little tree came to a nice cozy home. He was strung up with lights. The little tree stood proud. He waited for the rest of his decorations but none appeared. So he waited happily for whenever they would come. Later that night he heard a twist of the front door and a woman walked in and burst out with joy, "A tree! We have a tree!"

The woman loved Christmas. But this particular year work had drained her and left her feeling less Christmas cheer. She longed for a tree but felt that it was too close to Christmas to get one. So when she came home to find the little tree in her home all her Christmas cheer was restored. 

The woman opened up boxes of decorations and gently placed each ornament on the tree. The little tree felt loved and special. And the woman felt happy. The little tree had brought Christmas back into a home. 

Sadly, now this little tree sits at our curb. I feel guilty seeing it lying there in the dirt. Poor little tree. 

The lost friend

We have been friends so long and now I know that I never knew you. I saw your beautiful smile as a genuine gift. Your hands were always outstretched. Our history could change the world if we wrote a book and shared it with everyone we knew. 

But now I see that everything was just a little show. You just cant bare the fact that you might be ordinary so you have to be the most extravagant person anyone could ever know. The spot light, no matter how big or small, must always be on you. You have raised yourself up so high that you have lost sight of everything that was once important. Big flashy car. Perfect hair. Perfect life. But the sad thing is that you just dont know you anymore. 

I miss the friend I met so long ago. She was wonderful just the way she was. She seems to be lost though. Lost for nothing. Some times I think I see bits and pieces of her shine through. 

Inspiration from someone else's inspiration

One day the outside world sees the smile and they assume to know that happily ever after is true. Bright white smiles and hands folded over one another. But now its been years and the smiles have formed age lines. Once firm bodies have become nothing more than waste. 

Behind closed doors there are secrets, whispers and screams that wont ever escape those four walls. When did love turn into a battle? When did companionship turn into pointed fingers and hate?

Eyes are stained red from tears held back. "Fuck you" and "I hate you" bury themselves in the places once held dear. What kind of monster was created? Love was once there and now this... this beast, a zombie that eats up all the good, is the only thing left. 

No one sees what the monsters see. No one sees what they see. The disdain from every day life. Disappointment in every breath. Where has the love gone? The only bit of feeling left that isnt stained by hurt is holding on to dead hands. The only thing left is the hate and the love. They cant let go of one another.

For G

A little girl stands far from home. She knows that she is at the head of a trail she doesnt understand. Her heart bears the scars of not knowing who she is. She waits for someone, anyone, to tell her who she is. Anyone but them.

Her young mind races forward without care. The signs all point toward another road yet she cant help but keep putting one foot in front of the other. She doesnt even look up to see that there are no trees or flowers. There are no songs or joy to be found. There is only the dirt beneath her feet.

She wonders when she will see in herself all that they told her she was. She shakes her head no. They dont know. 

A blistering pain throbs in her delicate hands. Her hands now bruised and bloody from the fight. The never ending fight to keep her heart beating even if she doesnt know what or who it beats for. 

She smiles and a tear falls as she remembers they told her they loved her. But she soon forgets the light the memory brings and she continues to walk away.

There is no certainty in youth, only growing pains.

I am looking at

I am looking at snow. Crisp white blanket outside my window. Melted and iced over up and down the driveway. Please let the sun take it away. I dont want to shovel it. The sky is blue and the air looks clean. Finally, we can breath. 

Little birds come to the deck. They peck at frozen seeds that have fallen from our feeder. Lily our prowling little feline begins to pant. She wants outside. More than just wanting to be outside she wants what is outside. Her sleek black coat is nothing more than a shadow to the birds oblivious. She swats the window scaring the tiny brown birds away. Lily looks searching for any bird left to tease. 

I am looking at winter finally settling in. The snow fell late this year. 

I have been thinking about writing a memoir about my life. I created this blog to help get me back into writing without limits. I recently purchased a book that has 10 minute writing challenges. I will be doing those challenges in this blog.  I am excited and nervous.