The things that will happen, will happen.
So why do you cling tight to fear?
Unplug from that Worry Recharge Station,
Fill instead with some hope, crystal clear.
You can’t make decisions for people-
They aren’t yours to mind or to mend.
The worries you hold like a flock of caged birds,
Must be let out to fly in the end.
Peace, just like worry, is contagious.
Choose to breathe, not to drown in the cares.
Chances are, someone else won’t approve it.
That’s okay. It’s alright. Don’t waste tears.
Hear the wind. Watch the rain as it splatters
And it rushes all over the pane.
Wash your mind with a nourishing writing.
Sit in silence, and peace you’ll obtain.
Tag: life
To the Girl Trapped in Fear
I wish I could free you, small one.
From the fear that is in your mind
The images there are nothing to fear,
But they’ll long squeeze you tight in a bind.
Speak up! Say your thoughts, though they’re stupid.
The fear is what’s really the cage.
A wrong word won’t mark you forever.
Don’t shut yourself up; just engage.
Don’t elevate others so highly
That you fear to meet them eye to eye.
People are people, I hope you will see,
And they’re making it up on the fly.
The what ifs will strike you as endless
Hidden tragedy in every form.
But much of this life is fair weather;
Don’t lose yourself chasing a storm.
Most things that you fear? They won’t happen.
Go travel and let yourself soar.
The tangles you meet? They’ll unravel.
You’ll be glad that you stepped through the door.
I won’t waste my words on the the big things—
You’ll dive into them and you’ll swim.
My dear, you’ll stand strong when it matters.
You’ll shine when the dragons come in!
To the Girl in Love with Darkroom Photography
Look up from the developing trays.
You can’t see it yet,
But something is coming.
Maybe you smell the shift—
Or feel the marching—
An army? A friend?
It depends.
Kiss your Pentax K1000 goodbye,
But photos are here to stay.
They’ll appear everywhere—
Every day, every reason.
You’ll see the image immediately,
Then rarely look back.
Photography in reverse.
It will be glorious and ghastly.
Great shots.
Instant edits.
Sharing like magic.
Abandoned photo box.
Dead computers.
Lost memories.
You’ll remember then,
The anguish of wondering.
“Did I get the shot?”
The exhalation.
The disappointment.
The heart flutter of holding a beauty,
An image born out of hard labor.
A paper treasure.
Your darkroom days are ending,
I feel I must relay it.
But the truth is,
You’ll come out alright
If you take this hint:
Enjoy the advances,
And don’t forget to print!
To the Girl who Had Her First Seizure
I wish I could tell you it will get easier
That the worst is behind you.
It won’t. It isn’t. Not yet.
There will be more…
Hundreds,
Thousands,
Dozens and dozens some days.
You will be scared.
Terrified. Lonely. Humiliated.
You’ll dig through, grabbing at breath,
Drowning in spit and blood.
And look up, ashamed to meet another’s eye.
You’ll hide for a while, hold them in,
But they’ll explode—too many to contain.
This is what you’ll be up against;
I knew you’d want to know.
You’ll fight well,
And you’ll fight poorly,
But you will never give up.
One day you’ll do something stupid
And end up in a coma.
But God will grant mercy.
Out of the darkness and fog
Discovery will come.
Of who you are
Of why you’re here.
You’ll find a different medicine,
But more than that, you’ll find peace.
You’re here for a reason, my dear.
Hold strong;
You’ll find it.
Angela Writes... 