Trading secrets to keep the sanity, I know my own and my own knows me. Living in this box of a world is nothing like a cup of tea, but more or less like making the perfect one. “What is the perfect cup of tea?” you may ask. This can be discerned by you and you alone. For me the perfect cup of tea is: [A brisk morning’s night flying on the tail feathers of a kite through the skies I long to see myself soaring through to eternity. Take a breathe that never leaves and leave it with your heart. I can not be what anyone sees but only something taken piece by piece, apart. Ringing, singing, and stinging comes the light of day and with it the power to love and pray. “Truth, be mine!” I yell. This circumstance can’t be partaken of and described as swell. Live and make believe that all is well. Spin in a frenzy of hope. Laugh in terrible chaos and forfeit the ability to stop. Send off an echo that resonates back to you. Inspire your soul with your own voice and bring your feet to stand on utterly and inconsistently solid ground. Teach your voice with your mind to be fearless and timidly unwavering.]
Help me say, “Good-bye.”
No comments:
Post a Comment