when the anxiety of maneuvering all the plot points builds. into a flurry of check marks on to-do lists. missed comms. what-ifs. each new idea splintering into infinite opportunities. cascading cacophony. swirling together until one final piece. linchpin. locks into place. transforms the anxiety. from stressful stomach knots. to excited butterflies. who relish this plan. and settle into a balanced state.
that moment when the arc of completion drops. a brief rush of relief. quickly followed by the messy emotional cocktail found at the end of a laborious rainbow. finish. with a lackluster pot of gold. dulled by the stress of reaching here. bittersweet. glinting flecks of accomplishment reflect efforts made. while the heavier nuggets nag with the endless question. what now.
she hides. against the grain. concealed under decorative distractions. hypnotizing patterns. that provide pops of brilliance in this consuming darkness. and vibrantly hope to help her escape the impending guillotine. poised. ready to befall our heroine all the reality she has ignored. all the put off til tomorrow thoughts refined to a sharpness. slowly. cascading silently. she watches the blade fall.
awash in a foreign cast. alien. outsider searching for crevices. footholds. ways to route a path of comfortable disservice. for growth sprouts from discomfort. advance. vining along one course. only to tangle in thorny brush the next. and force a reflective rerouting. proceed. despite the forever feeling one does not belong. and learn to embrace the uniqueness each unparalleled pattern offers.
solo daisy sprouting into spring. a wistful wallflower wilting in bipolar weather. she pensively ponders the depth of growth. longing. to escape these faux floral displays. to burst into unfettered wildflower fields. shed the weight of winter. and tramp through petal painted paths. flourish. but the wind chills her musing. all she can do is wait. sighing into illusions of spring.