after days in depressing darkness. the lone huntress emerges. awoken. comes to the brink of bleak and bright. pondering the path ahead. divided. to burst forth into renewed jubilation. a sunny soaked street littered with soul-lifting adventures. or succumb to the bewitching dark side of sinful delights. snuggle into the listlessness she knows too well. split. she lingers on the edge.
swaddled in sinewy wooden skin. its barrier both preserving and preventing progress in my world. i sink further into the swampy trap of doubt. languish. fester in frictionless mind games. that endlessly loop detrimental mantras. sticky. in those stuck days when sludge sucks the brightness from my figure. feeding off melancholy moods. and taking me deeper into its murky muddy form.
the manic crests and crashes of life. produce fluctuating moods. but when warmer updrafts prevail. latch on. ride that bundle of balloons. their colorful flurry of fun uplifting you to lighter elevations. to moments outside the madness. and when the gravitational pull of reality feels too strong. know. one can always find simple spheres to elevate. and help you feel free.
slip sliding through frosty terrain. leaving divots. shards. icy remnants of shaky paths. contrast to smooth skating days. when those missteps suddenly stumble upon a cool world. frozen. hidden under what appeared to be turmoil. but was prismatic. allowing intrigue to look back. to display different views beneath the fickle tundra. waiting to be unlocked. discovered. for the thaw to begin.
under constant critique one can pale to pastel. wear down. and allow a peek. beneath the cover ups. welcoming for a brief moment into this safe space. reflection. wary at first. at odds with self-pronounced flaws. but come to gaze upon vulnerability’s power. its true offering. the gift of honesty. that hushes the negative and highlights the ability to know oneself.