Five Minute Friday.

Today's Prompt: Nothing.

Go.

On my knees, gaze pointed down at the floor. Embarrassed. Hands wringing, bits of ocean fill in around the blue, vision blurs. I squeeze my eyes shut.

I feel the broken pieces sticking into the deepest part of my soul. I feel the shattered glass, the pieces I tried so desperately to glue back together, but the elemers glue is just not enough and my childlike hands are clumsy and don't know how to mend the holes.

I'm so sorry. I messed it all up. I made so many bad decisions, went precisely in the opposite direction of where you wanted me to be. I really didn't mean to most of the time. You trusted me with so much and I didn't do as you asked. You gave me all the beauty and wonderful things in the world and I ungratefully took them and abused them all. I wanted so badly to take care of what you gave me, to be the person you wanted me to be, but I broke it all. I'm here, but I have nothing left. I understand if you want nothing to do with me. I wouldn't either.

Hand reaches, gentle underneath my chin, raising my gaze to meet your own.

Oh, sweet girl of mine. There is nothing you could do, no mistake made, no promise broken, no path too far away... there is no height nor depth that could ever keep my love from reaching you. 

Your arms slide around my shoulders, I didn't realize how much I craved them to be there, you hold me close. I feel the pieces, the brokenness I was sure was beyond repair, begin to mend again.

I brought you nothing, you gave me everything.

This is grace, this is love.

Stop.

-S.

Five Minute Friday.

Today's prompt: Close.

Go.

It's so easy to feel so lost sometimes.
Life feels like a sprint in the opposite direction of the home where you are
And it's so easy to get caught up in the path that goes that way.

I've never been good at directions.

I can get lost more easily than I'd like to admit
It's just so simple to get turned around
Driving in circles, farther away from where you are
Where I need to be.

I swear I've seen that tree before.

God knew not to create me before the GPS.
And I guess that lost sense of direction carries over to life itself somedays
Taking wrong turns, losing my way
I promise I'm trying.

And just when I think I'm hopelessly lost
When the road seems so long behind me
When I'm miles and miles down the path I didn't intend to take

Deep breath.
U-turn.
But wait, what is that, just to the right?

Oh.

There you are.
You were so close all along.

-S. 

Poetry.

I've recently moved here, and I wanted to bring some poetry with me. Hope you don't mind.

Eleven. Twenty-Nine. Thirteen.

I'm made of stars.
Carbon hydrogen and helium
I'm not a scientist, so I couldn't say for certain
But I know about wishes and magic and light
Distance and stories and mystery
I've squeezed my eyes shut many a time
A 'star light, star bright...' wish whispered into a night sky
I'm made of stars.

I'm made of pieces.
Skinned knees and bruised hands
Heart beats resounding hollow trying to hide the mess
Inside clumsily scotch-taped mosaic
Held together by elemers covered fingers
All grown up but really
Five years old trying to hide the cracks
Of a heart that accidentally slipped
Trusted in the hands of someone
Not quite ready to hold it.
I'm made of pieces

I'm made of crumbs.
Christmas eve wishes settling in the bottom of a plateNear a letter and an ice cold glass of milk
Slippered feet illuminated by glowing colors
Lights and ornaments, wreaths and bows
Please, Santa I know I've messed up but I tried...
I'm made of crumbs.

I'm made of bits of poetry.
Words that cut deeper than the surgeon scalpel
When he took out all the bad cells
Stitching me back together in the broken spots
The spots cut open, bleeding, painful
But cut open, deep, to make me better
Make me whole.
I'm made of bits of poetry.

I'm made of eighth notes.
Half notes, quarter, rest
Little beats mixing and twirling
Tutus and ballet slipper feet
Watching the big girls and please please please
Let me dance pretty just like them
Finding my own rhythm to the song
Learning to recognize the song inside my very being.
I'm made of eighth notes.

I'm made of memories.
Flying like birds through department store doors
Their simple way in not so easily reversed
Rattling around inside and finding new places to rest
Causing gasps and sometimes breaks
Other times giggles and 'oh won't this be a story to tell'
Knocking off dust from where it wasn't even noticed
I'm made of memories.

I'm made of prayers.
Words whispered in the good and the bad
Holiday tables surrounded by families
Sunday lunches. Full-churched candle-lit hymns.
Funerals. Hospital beds.
The pleases and the thank yous, the wishes and the wonders.
I'm made of prayers.

I'm made of hope.
The little whisper that says that
When the world lets you down
When you're bruised and heartbroken
When Christmas is over and the magic slips away
When the bad things aren't able to be removed
When the music stops
When the memories fade
When prayers feel like they're sinking into tiles
Hold on.

Because I'm made of rays of sunshine.
Nighttime coming to an end.
New beginning. Another day.
Second chance.
I'm made of sunshine.

Four. Eleven. Thirteen.

Things I hope for you:

Your days are full of sunshine
And when they aren't,
I hope the rain is gentle
I hope you laugh
And when you can't,
I hope you know that things will clear up soon.
They always do.

I hope someone tells you how wonderful you look
With that crooked tooth
And the crinkles beside your eyes
And that one color that you look amazing in.
I hope that your hair grows,
And you have to get it cut again and again.
That's one of life's small joys, you know.
That, and wearing a new outfit.

I hope you take the time to feel the grass between your toes
And really listen to the waterfall.
You let the child run their fingers over your face
And you let the tickles bring belly laughs.

I hope you remember to look up at the stars
Count them until you're lost in the wonder of it all
And then remember that you, too
Are made of stars.

Remember that everyone you are scared of
Is 65% water
And that bumble bees die after they sting
And that every storm runs out of rain
And that nothing is infinite
Not even heartache.

Remember that you'll be okay.
Remember that I'm pulling for you.
Remember that I believe in you.

Three. Fifteen. Thirteen.

Rest.

Hands open, broken, cracked.
I sit here at this table, Your table.
Thank you for saving a seat for me.

My heart is weary; I'm afraid I've worn it out.
Life has been so busy. Always on the move.
Minutes slip through fingers- dew drops in morning sun.

Most are good, though some are not.
There's always somewhere to be.
Someone to see, someplace to visit, some thing to be accomplished.

But I sit here; I sit at your table in this moment.
I take a short reprieve from the bustle of the go, go, go.
I breathe deep; my constricted lungs finally expand.

I lean in, I lay my head on your shoulder.
I close my eyes and I am still.
I listen for the quiet.

You hold me close.
You let me know that it will be okay.
You let me rest.

Thank you.

Three. Seven. Thirteen.

Do you know why
You can never fully repair something that was broken?

Because there are tiny fragments that break off of the whole
They are so small that you do not see them
Mixed in with carpet fibers and wood grain
But they are there
And now they are missing.

You can try your best to put the pieces back together
But they won't fit exactly right
Because there are those parts that you can't get back
The parts that are lost forever
Pieces that have been claimed by another space.

But have you ever tried to fix something
That was, at one time, totally shattered?
Then you know that there are tiny cracks
Little spaces where those pieces are missing
Fault lines that are permanently etched.

But if you've ever tried to fix something
That was, at one time, totally shattered,
Then you also know that those cracks
Those etched-in fault lines
Those missing-piece holes
Are the places where the light comes in.

The same goes for hearts.
So, too, with people.

Two. Twenty-eight. Thirteen.

2am.
This is just a rambling mess.
A jumble of thoughts and consciousness
So please forgive me if I make no sense
Or all the sense in the world
But I just need to talk tonight

Friend of mine, there are things I need to do
Have you ever felt that way?
There is this itching under my skin
This need to do something in the world
To leave fingerprints, memories, ink smudges
To make a difference

You know, I don't know what I'm supposed to do
Who to be, what to say, where to go
But I do know the fire-dipped shades of sunset skies
The deep pink of wind-bitten cheeks
The silver of child-laughter eyes
And the lavender of wishes on stars.
I know the grey of tears down cheeks,
The black of empty arms in empty beds
And I know the green of new, fresh,
starting over, and over, and over again.
This world is a rainbow that always seems
to keep showing up after every storm.
Dew drop on a blade of grass, sud in a sink.
And I'm thankful.

I want to take my frayed edges
My messy hair and uneven eyeliner
I want to take my hoodies and jeans with the torn holes
And take my chipped fingernails and my too-long toes curled in nervous anticipation
And I want to offer them to you.
It isn't much.
It's pennies and broken shells and maybe
even shards from broken hearts
But it's what I am and it's what I have
And I want to give it to you.
I want to offer up these fragments,
These seemingly broken things

Because without the colored pieces mosaics cannot exist.

Friend, I want to leave a piece of me here.
Maybe with you, maybe with petals in the wind
Maybe even on the glint off a feather of a
bird high in the tree tops
Because that's where you'll find me.
You'll find me here, then there, always
Always floating through the world, breathing deep the colors of now, now, now

You'll find me in the words I leave on this paper piece.
Because I am a writer.
This my greatest dream, you see
And it may not always work
And the sentences may not make
And sometimes I Capitalize The Wrong Letters
And... Well... I pause, rather, frequently
And I say the same things over and over
And I repeat myself
And I don't make sense.
My hands are covered in ink and eraser smudges,
Coffee and tear stains.
And still the words don't flow.
The heart is lopsided but beating
And this is the greatest thing I have.
This is what I am.

I am words. A big long string, unending,
Unbroken.
Word after word connected and placed
So that you can know my name.
So that when you hold up your thumb to the sky
You can count four over, three across
You can see my star.
The one that grants wishes and hope
The silver in the black.
This so that you taste the sweet of sunshine and fresh cotton sheets.
The honeysuckle in late June dusk.
Maybe this is my fingerprint.
Maybe my memory.
These my words.
The words I leave here, on this page,
covered in the hue of windowsill cracks
This hour that blurs the lines of the page
The too-late and too-early belonging to days gone and to be
The smell of coffee and toothpaste and chocolate chip cookie.
These words, messy, chopped, scribbled, whispered, placed.
They rest in the outstretched palm
The fingers extended,
Dirty fingernails and all.

Here.
For you.

May & See You Later.

It's the end of the year. It's that time when cardboard boxes make me more nostalgic than just about anything in the entire world, and where it's suddenly placed right up in my face how very quickly this is all moving. It's going by so fast, this whirlwind of a life. Moments keep slipping like sand through the cracks between my fingers, and they never seem to fall less quickly. How am I supposed to just let them go? How am I supposed to just let you go?

I'm going to miss you.

And it's not fair. It's not fair because I swear that it has been just seconds since we met and now you are going to be walking out into this world. It isn't fair that I can't go with you and cheer for you as you shape this planet. But, those people who do get to see you soar next? They are the luckiest ones. The new people that can count on your presence in an everyday sort of way the way that I have recently, they are in for such an amazing treat.

I want you to know that you changed me.

You have shared so many good things with me. So many laughs. Heart to heart conversations. Meals and days when I couldn't seem to keep my own chin up. Sunshine-filled walks and puddle-splashing days. Two sets of boot prints in the snow. You came into my life as the biggest blessing.  I knew from day one that we would share a very special space. And I was right. Without you, I wouldn't be the person that I am standing here as today. You've filled in a place I was unaware was empty.

You are going to do amazing things.

Really, though. You are going to change this world and I cannot wait to see as you blaze a new trail right through the thick of it. You have a fire in your eyes that I admire and envy, because I just know that you're going to use it to shift the axis of the planet on which we stand. You have big dreams, and you will achieve them. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, I know that much. You've already changed my little corner of the world. Just think of how many more little corners you will touch. It's really quite astonishing. Everyone who has the chance to know you is so lucky.

Thanks. For everything. I know it's just a word, and that it's not much, but it's what I have to give. So, thanks.

You filled me on days I was empty. You gave me moments of joy and memories that I will have for the rest of my time on this journey. You showed me how to live this life to the absolute fullest and for that, you will never know how eternally grateful that I am.

Thanks for the breakfasts. For the dances. For the park trips. For the ice cream and the movie nights. Thanks for the car rides, the radio up too loud, the smiles we couldn't seem to loose. Thanks for holding me together when I started coming unglued. Thanks for pushing me to become a better person. Thanks for accepting that there are parts of me that probably won't be fixed at all. Thanks for nights out and nights in and days together and showing me a view of the world I hadn't seen before I met you. Thanks for all the moments, the memories, the love that comes from having a friend like you.

I suck at goodbyes, so how about just see you later?

And no matter where this life may take you, you'll always know where to find me.

I'm cheering for you.

All my love,

-S.