the embodiment of an inside view

Does anyone really know what is inside you? Can they truly tell what you're thinking deep down or do you wear an exceptional disguise? It amazes me how many people walk around as if they're asleep. Are you faking it; sleepwalking or is it that you just don't care anymore? Don't you want more, doesn't happiness call out to- beckoning for a frolic in the early morning sunbeams? I know what my answer is to these questions.... and of course, that's classified information.

 Already connected, I feel massive mood swings and I cannot stand how essential this odd commodity is to me. Working on balances in my life, I look inwardly to things that will fill the void, not to falsehoods or individuals of any kind. My happiness is my own,... or at least I thought it was.... Seemingly now I have a leaseholder with whom I can't comprehend the time when they took up residence in my affections. Not dealing well with the loss of control, I go from joy to madness to quickly most days.
There aren't many moments in life as one gets older that you can honestly reach out and grasp the things that came so easily as a child. And when you can capture those seconds of serenity, you hold strong and fast. I recognize that I want to be known and loved for each and every single silly thing that makes me exactly me. I won't be OK with anything less. And so, I fear the new but it makes me ache with sweet what if's .... and the old causes a suffering that is getting to be too much to carry. Reality has no welcome here, that much I do know.

I actualize my stupidity, full on- but the wounds from the past and the torment of constant despondency in the broken promises keep me from real rational thought. And even with this idiocy- I see that if I had no real adoration towards my pain and heart keeper, I would of acted out long ago. But I do not-- so instead, I have such inner turmoil I can hardly function. Guilt, responsibility, accountability and authentic respect makes me hold back.... Painfully, I do hold back --wondering if the chances of age and circumstance make this all just a precious delusion that I won't be able to conjure up again any time soon.





Copyright 2011 Jennifer Rose




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