#WriteFree365 – Day 212: Open Your Eyes

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(I don’t even know where this metaphor came from.  But I actually like where my creativity is headed.  Day 212, brought to you by The Doobie Brothers…)

If it’s not real, there’s no reason to frown.  Open your eyes.  Let’s not let what never was bring us down…

This is what to do when the truth is in front of you
Pull up the shade
Observe the world for what it is
Inclement weather beating on the sides of your face
Like the breath of imaginary wolves
Just take it in visually
The most durable houses
Are made of brick

I remember when you blushed on summer
Before our log cabin was destroyed by carnivorous winds
Before pricking my finger funding the needle in our home
Before shouting “Timber”
Then gathering the firewood to burn our mistakes
Learning their true purpose

I know you’re sturdy now
So am I.
But in one last conversation
Please crack your windows
I won’t attempt to crumble your foundation
I don’t want to be let in
I just want you to hear me say
That I want you too love happily ever after

#WriteFree365 – Day 145: Minute By Minute

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(Today’s entry was easy.  That’s interesting because I walked through a door from post experience with no hesitation.l, and it does not apply to my current situation.  Michael McDonald is amazing.  Day 145…)

I know I could turn, blink, and you’d be gone.  So I must be prepared, any time, to carry on.  But minute by minute, I’ll be holding on…

Minute one.
Hope still sounds eternal.
Things change
Sometimes, for the better
But sometimes changing back is best

Minute three.
My heart skipped a beat
It finally realized it no longer has yours to keep rhythm
Dancing alone is…awkward

Minute eight.
Doubt hovers with “I told you so” on its breath
Like a hypocritical surgeon general
The second-hand smoke is enough to kill me
Though he once only made me doubt the permanence of your absence

Minute twenty-one.
Nervousness has reached adulthood.
The grip on whatever sanity your voice brought is loosening
I selfishly want to call you
And hope you at least customized your voicemail
The mundane sounds so beautiful when you say it
I want to relay a message
In between heartbeats.

Minute forty.
Feels like days and nights in wilderness
Tempted by devils to test the holy you still possess in my spirit.
Gradually, the aura of Heaven has dimmed
And only a glimpse of God remains in visions of you
That’s still enough divine inspiration

Minute ninety-six.
Other measures of time are as insignificant as who I am to you.
Disappearing isn’t magic
The only way you trick me now is if you came back.

Minute whenever.
Where is the prestige?
The grandiose ta-da
I’m waiting
My heart matches the rhythm of my tapping foot
Dancing alone is awkward
Reaching for a partner that isn’t there
Imagining a love that isn’t there
You’re going to need someone
It’s coming.

Any minute now.

#WriteFree365 – Day 98: Where Would I Be

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(Today was a really thoughtful day.  Maybe it was the sudden bursts of rain.  Who knows?  My birthday is tomorrow.  Day 98…)

I guess, sometimes, I lose my way…

I’ve made plenty of mistakes
Purposely taken wrong turns because I let selfishness navigate
I would say I lose my way sometimes
But that would be a lie
It’s more like I take detours
Knowing I need to be where I need to be as quickly as possible

But while I regret the length of the journey
I’ve grown to love the journey itself
The scrapes and weary legs
The unnecessary dirt on my pants
Make arrival much more pleasant
Obstacles build character
Once overcome, you use the material from them to compete what you’re made of.

Yes, I wish I had gotten here without a scratch
Without wounding others along the way
But I did manage to make it here
Who knows where I would be
Had I not taken this course

#WriteFree365 Day 3: What A Fool Believes

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(I’m still not sure if these are getting harder or easier to write, but I’m enjoying the challenge and discipline. Day Three…)

Inspired by this Doobie Brothers classic.

There are things he needed to say.
He hoped she was listening.
She hoped he was, too.
He told her he loved her
In ways only God would understand.
His heart
An unattended lockbox of prayers
The latch
A broken passcode of Commandments

Her heart
A series of prerecorded responses
For messages left after the beat.
What he hears is candy
Later that tastes like now
Pacifiers she hoped would make it easier to euthanize him.

But he hasn’t gone away
The sound of her voice is soothing enough,
Though it isn’t in real-time.
He’s praying to a laugh track mistaken for live studio audience
She left the show somewhere in his long ago
He remained there
She hoped he’d hear the silence of her absence
He filled it with his own interpretations to keep from listening.
One day, she may listen.