Will

I will set this fear on fire.

I will brush the blood and gravel from these weary knees.

I will stand and sift through the glorious ash of the girl too afraid to live.

I will gather up the good pieces left refined

And leave the rest to become ink and scars.

I will put to good use this needle and thread.

I will allow to mend what has been left torn open.

I will open wide, wiser eyes and seek.

I will sing a new song.

I will emerge less of her ….

and so very much more.

I will.

I am.

cswhitlow

Growing Pains


Woken from nightmares again …

What if’s and Why did I’s

raining down like volcano ash;

suffocating,

gray,

smothering the light

that sets free.

What if I simply slipped back into winter, frozen and numb?

Why did I let myself begin to burn?

What if I ran again …

from him, from her, from the dreams?

Why did I let myself be seen?

What if I went back into hiding?

Why did I step from the shadows at all?

What if I gave back into fear?

Why did I ever believe their lies?

cswhitlow

Lost

Oh my darling…

 

I do not worry when you rage,

When your passion calls for blood to spill,

When your anger articulates sharply,

When your spirit churns,

No,

I do not worry then.

 

Oh, but my darling…

 

When your rage falls silent,

When your passionate words cease ,

When your anger dissolves into resignation,

When all grows still and quiet,

Then,

Do I fear…

It is then,

I know I have lost you.

 

cswhitlow

Watch it Burn 

Light the match.

Fan the flames.

Watch it burn….

 

That girl you used to be.

The weakness soaked in excuses.

The regrets that have paralyzed.

The fear you’ve danced with too long.

The demons that wrestle against your resolve.

The bridges that keep you shackled,

To a place that no longer knows your name.

 

Light the match.

Fan the flames.

Watch it burn.

 

And rise.

 

cswhitlow