stoplights

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stoplights

tell us when to go
when to hold up
and when to turn

dictating our lives
like only our souls can

cautioning our foot on that pedal
in the same way we build walls around our hearts

stoplights
fail

tires screech
as metal clashes on metal

hearts are broken
as lives are lost
or put in harm’s way

what is a driver without a stoplight?

if we cannot rely on even this guidance
what hope do we have in the rest of the world?

it’s cold

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it’s cold

that’s all I remember
the words whispered in my ear
by the icy breeze
that brought with it a raging winter storm

I had never been so cold before
my feet frozen to the ground
like a wintery snowman
who cannot move until the sun warms him

the coldness trickled up my body
until my heart becomes solid ice
its beating slowed to a calming rhythm
and even the most feather like of touches

could have broken it into shards

the most impossible of outcomes
had befallen me
with neither sun nor the warmth of another soul
I sat that way

it was as if time had stood still

I longed to see the sun fill up the blue skies
smell the flowers as they began to bloom
and feel the warmth of the sun
as the days became longer

but the sun did not come
and the skies remained grey
I remained an icy box
just another part of winter

a creature in its own

unbeknownst to me

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unbeknownst to me
the world stopped turning
for a day and a day only
we were free to live our lives
to our hearts desire

until the sun fell below the tree line
to the east
and darkness consumed
our wildest of dreams

you knocked (a December chill)

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you knocked
faintly on my door
whispering truths that would be lies
between the cracks
in the wood
truths with no bounds
you fumbled on the lock
trying again and again
the key that used to work
it was the only key
until your façade began to fade
reverting back to the negative
which cannot be hidden in the darkness
your secrets unbound all at once
a door slammed shut on your face
bolted down
the knocks grew louder
as my heart throbbed it fought
wanting to find a place for you
but my mind
told me it was a trick
just some silly street magic
so I blocked it out
for as long as possible
until my heart gave way
and I found the strength to open the door
but you were gone
and left in your place
was the bitter cold
a December chill

I hear it again

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I hear it again
the faint ticking
much like that of crickets
outside a summer window

the voice
crystal clear
in even the largest of crowds
my un-subdued conscious

it guides me
my own north star
and my internal compass
it is all that is good

I thought it was gone forever
my days continually spiraled down a black hole
I heard little but the shadowy white noise
of this world

which cares little of me

I welcome
its candor and beauty
with open ears
and a full heart

I am

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I am
not just another girl
who sits patiently and
waits to be served on a silver platter

taken care of
yet pushed aside
waiting and the awaited

thoughtful but unspoken

I am
not another woman
who layers her face in shades of color
as if to place it on a pedestal

afraid of the eyes that stare
with vicious judgment
and the murmurs that await

outspoken by all those around

I am
an individual
strong and independent
I cut my own paths

never looking around
never seeking attention
laying a hand on the shoulder of all those around me

I am undoubtedly me

I watched

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I watched
the ball fall off the shelf
light penetrating though its crystal surface
shooting in rays in all directions

I watched in slow motion
as if gravity had slowed
taking in the balls beauty
as it transcends upon its fate

in an instant
the light was shut off
shards of crystal shatter about the ground
like stars in the darkest of night skies

a prettier picture than what was seen before
for only fate can transform us in un-thought ways