.lovelysweet.

maybe i’ve done enough, and your golden child grew up. maybe this trophy isn’t real love- and with or without it, i’m good enough. maybe i’ve done enough, finally catching up. for the first time i see an image of my brokenness utterly worthy of love. maybe i’ve done enough. i finally see myself. through the eyes of no one else. it’s so exhausting on this silver screen where i play the role of anyone but me. i finally see myself. unabridged and overwhelmed, a mess of a story i’m ashamed to tell, but i’m slowly learning how to break this spell. and i finally see myself. now i only want what’s real- to let my heart feel what it feels. gold, silver or bronze hold no value here, where work and rest are equally revered. i only want what’s real- i set aside the highlight reel, and leave my greatest failures on display* (*worthy of love anyway) Three, Sleeping at Last ________   

It feels like falling. It feels like rain. Like losing my balance Again and again. It once was so easy; Breathe in, breathe out. But at the foot of this mountain, I only see clouds. I feel out of focus, Or at least indisposed As this strange weather pattern Inside me takes hold. Each brave step forward, I take three steps behind. It's mind over matter - Matter over mind. Slowly, then all at once. A single loose thread And it all comes undone. Where there is light, A shadow appears. The cause and effect When life interferes. The same rule applies To goodness and grief; For in our great sorrow We learn what joy means. Sorrow, Sleeping at Last  ________