Mountain Dreamer

I'm in the throes of a memory

stuck in the eye of a storm.

You really took a hold of me,

but I gave of myself willingly.

Now that you've had your fill of me;

I just want to raise my hands to the sky

and scream, but I cannot breath so instead

I'm teaching myself how to be free.

I put myself in shackles,
clinging to a mountain,

chasing a mirage of family that

I longed for so fiercely that I lost

sight of my feet, and find myself slipping

with no edges to grasp on to,

only slick grass and puddles 

to land in, only mud to catch me.

Now my face is slathered in a film  

that I can't wash clean, 

instead I'm inciting my demons

and they're coming to cash in.
Ghosting just like you would do
to come out alive, to survive.
Now I'm dancing as only I know how
to end this slide, and to rise.

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“And I found that I can do it if I choose to - I can stay awake and let the sorrows of the world tear me apart and then allow the joys to put me back together different from before but whole once again.”

― Oriah Mountain Dreamer  

Once again as always, thank you to Florence as well, who has been my favorite muse in the last year.