She was always a little too much. She either hated with her whole being or loved with her mighty heart. She was too quiet or too loud. Too careful or too wild. There was no in-between for her. For she was everything or nothing at all. And she, she is not for everyone, she knows her fire scares them so they shy away from her intensity. She was not perfect nor would she ever be. She had faults, her faults were just like the rest of her, just a little too much. But she hopes that the ones that don’t runaway, don’t turn away from her, will know, know that she does, and will always love them with every bone, every thought, every moment she has. And God, does she hope that that will be enough.
I was an empty canvas before I met you. I had imagined a thousand times what it would feel like to be painted, always envious of the bright colors I saw on others. Then you came along, my perfect painter, with your soft brushes and gentle strokes; you created a masterpiece of me and I know you take pride in the art you have created. But I fear one day, you will find a bigger canvas that will tempt your brushes and colors, leaving me to be bid to the highest patron. But even then, I hope that I’ll always be your most beautiful work, and never left forgotten hanging on a wall.
In a night of many, my love was taken for granted. I was belittled and abused. His mind led him to believe that whatever he may have said will always be forgiven and forgotten. But I am only human. For I will never forgive or forget, I have been broken beyond repair. You see, my love is not to be demanded nor should be taken for granted. My love is to be protected within your heart. Once upon a time, I used to love him. But that was many nights ago, now, I have grown, and I see the monster for who he really is.
I have a heart that beats inside of me. It beats so strong, it beats in rhythm with the universe. My heart makes me curious and wonder and question everything in the cosmos. I want to touch the milky way, fire a gun at a dead star, wish upon an age-old coin, and throw myself into the endless ocean. I want to live, live, live, chasing happiness down an open-road. I want to ride a Mustang, with the wind in my hair and the words of my mind scribbled somewhere on his body. And oh, his body. I want his body in a rusty motel, on top of mine, making me sweat till the sun says good morning. I want soft kisses with his firm lips, the taste of wine on his tongue, still. I want pizza slices at four in the morning, and whispers of dreams in the darkness. I want an adventure, one that makes my blood run hot, exhilarated with fear and wildness. I want to taste different cultures, speak a foreign language, and live in an unknown city. I want to meet strangers who will inspire me but I won’t remember ever again. I want to be brave and I want to be seen. I want his arms around me every night. And I want to feel the world set my soul free.
His eyes held the universes inside, they spoke of a thousand untold stories. Eyes as deep as honey, filled with mystery and wonder. They smiled, and laughed, and saddened, for his eyes had a language of their own. And when he tilts his head just right, the sunlight kisses his face, defining beauty to the world. He had eyes that blazed like wild fire, searing constellations across her soul. But he didn’t know the power he had; for he has eyes prettier than the universes combined.
Hakuna Matata. It is a wonderful phrase. It is important to remind ourselves to never let the moments pass us by. If we are too worried about tomorrow, we will never remember today. Plan and dream and hope for the future. But do not fret and worry about it too much. What is meant to be will be. Whatever problem you may have, trust in the power stronger than you, that it will be okay. So for just this one second, say Hakuna Matata, and don’t let the world pass you by.
Have you known peace, I ask. But they only stare at me in bewilderment. What peace do I speak of when war wages in the world, destroying everything in its wake, and people are restless in their merciless survival? But you see, peace is not a permenant state, peace is fleeting moments in between.
Late at night, just before dawn, when the sweltering heat finally breaks, and I take a deep breath, my bones sinking into the soft bed underneath me, I have known peace. In the infinite silence of a sleeping city, just before yet another morning, I have known peace. Traveling on an endless road, with no rush or fear, I have known peace. And in his arms, I am at peace. I hope, one day, you find your peace, too.