Some pairs don’t last

Let me have it back.

Let me have it back.

It’s already lost.

I still want to find it.

I still want to have it back in my bag.

You can get a new one.

I can’t accept a new one. I want that exact old one.

Exact one – just like that.

There’s that other pair that will stay.

I can’t accept a new one. I’d get that exact one back.

Let me have it back.

AN EXACT ONE- JUST LIKE THAT.

Hours ago, I handed her the light-green pair of earrings and the same face of delight was plastered on her face the moment she gave me mine. It was a lovely sight to have those blue earrings in my hands. I looked at them intently and it meant every bit of happy to have them with me. They’re a pair that I want to keep with me for good.

I arrived home and I was delighted to gaze at my earrings. I took one and stared at the blue stone and the gold intricate curves around it. I rummaged for the other one inside my bag. I removed all my things inside and turned it upside down. Then, I dropped on the floor with a heart break. I lost the other pair.

My being sentimental stirred the brokenness in me. Maybe some would not understand, or maybe others would. But my heart is still breaking for that other pair.

Let me have it back.

I still want to find it.

I still want to have it back in my bag.

AN EXACT ONE – JUST LIKE THAT.

I cannot just let go of this attachment in an instant.

Why does it have to be lost?

Why in such a short period of time did it disappear?

Why did it leave its pair alone in the bag?

My questions are endless; the space here could not contain all that I want to ask.

But then, I stopped searching.

I kept the piece of earring left with me and slept.

I awoke after a number of hours, and then I took the piece left with me again.

Still, my heart was breaking for its pair.

But I saw no point in finding a way to have it returned to me.

I saw no point in finding an exact one just like it.

I saw no point in not finding a new one.

I saw no point in looking for and keeping that other pair that didn’t want to stay.

Still, my heart is breaking for that other pair.

But I threw away the piece left with me.

Still, my heart is breaking for that other pair.

But I made my decision to get a new one.

Tears stopped and she wrote

Maybe somewhere in a left or right ventricle that bleeds, blood turns into water and finds its way out through the eyes.

These drops happen to be called tears.

Some think they're called tears because they can tear people apart. But tears are supposed to tear the sorrow, anger, and hurt from the big chunks that they are into smaller pieces to let blood circulate freely again in the heart without obstructions.

The eyes that shed the most tears are, of course, the most swollen. (after severe crying)

But aside from that obvious fact, those eyes are paired with hearts that feel the most,  deeply and wholly.

Crying is the language of the hurt, confused, broken, betrayed, and grieving.
They express more than words could do for them when they weep, mourn, and sob.

To some, crying is a weakness, an immaturity, a lack of of rationality.
        They are the insensitive race.
To some, crying is the only resort, a habit, an entire day's toil.
        They are the long-born infants.

To me, the true brave and strong cry.
       
To them, crying is a seasonal or the last blow of pain,
and the first step to being brave and strong.

MISS-ery

Like an infant unable to speak

Like a child learning to walk

Like a teen-ager in confusion

Like a man who can’t express his feelings

Like a mother giving birth 

Is the feeling of a person long separated from her craft

In the moments of silence,

When things can’t be put into words…

The ache in the heart cannot be healed

The longing cannot be quieted

The shouting cannot be silenced

Unless words are weaved

Unless meaning and art are formed

Unless the silence ends

And the words speak, shout and STAND

MISS-ery

The state of a heart away from its joy

Away from its cause

MISS- the strong feeling and desire to do something

MISS-ERY?

Writing is the MISSing piece that will complete.

What they can't do

What sleep can't do:
Do your requirements while you're in dreamland.

What a pessimistic mind can't do:
Anything---

What a worrywart can't do:
Use time wisely.

What a preoccupied person can't do:
Think of beautiful things.

What an overload of schedule can't do:
Adjust its time for you.

What stress can't do:
Kill its killer.

What seemingly endless tasks can't do:
Endure forever.

What you can't do:
He can do.

You. You. Miserable without You.

Sigh

Rant

Blurt Out

Cry

The pressure is around me, within me, all over me, overwhelming my being.

All negatives spring out from a soul that has not met its Peace and Security first thing in the morning.

To begin the day without You is to begin the worst day.

Everything is shaky, much more frustrating and hopeless when I have disconnected myself from OUR world.

All negative things fill me, my heart and my head, when I have not surrendered my day to You.

Daddy, Your child is just miserable without You.

I'm at a loss for words. 

Away from these things. To You I run again. 

*Click log out, Sign out, Hibernate