Current mood:	exhausted
Current music:	Jellyfish - Russian Hill (The Cape Radio - DJ Dione Layin' It Down!)

Tonight
So much has changed.. so much still stays the same. Found this in my directory. Wrote it a couple months ago.

Me

Water, warm and comforting,
Brings memories to the fore,
Intermingling with vanilla candles,
Clarity where before there was none.
A thousand thoughts rush through my brain,
Seeking to make their way onto the page.
But in the cold beyond, they fade,
And I must grasp them before they are gone.

My point of view... unique, some have said.
I do not try to be unusual,
I only try to be myself,
Learning to be better in a world
I am sometimes uncertain how to navigate.
So much advice, sometimes warring,
Which must be sifted through, the sources considered.
I live life learning from the mistakes of others,
Awhirl in a dizzying maelstrom of etiquette and opinions.
Yet to my own guns must I also stick,
Knowing in my heart the paths I must take.

For these are the eyes which have seen tragedy,
And this is the heart that has felt joy.
Mine are the hands which have fought to stay alive,
As my body has earned the scars of the hatred,
Of anyone not normal, of those who are different.
This is the mind which has seen forgiveness,
And this is the soul that has resolved to stay strong.

Memories flood back,
Of friends who long ago moved on,
Some who I miss with a wry smile,
Others who haunt my dreams, stealing away my sleep.
They were my family for so long,
My stability, my strength, as I learned to build my own,
Preparing for the day I had to stand alone.
They have their lives, their families, their jobs,
There is no more room for me.
This I accept, with a smile of regret,
As I learn to follow my own way.

I've made new friends,
None so close as those I left behind,
But in some ways, closer.
Still the tagalong, still on the fringe,
I can talk to some few, and know they
At least try to understand.
Still, I must be careful.
I wish no pity, but it is easy
To seem like I do.

But these are the eyes which are open,
That try to see all sides of the world.
And this is the scarred heart,
Which is slowly beginning to heal.
Mine are the hands that try to be helpful,
As my body sometimes longs to protect
Another child from what it has felt.
This is the mind that tries to stay open to the world,
And this is the soul that knows
The emptiness will be filled one day.

I write these words slowly,
Trying to say what I can,
But always mindful of who might read.
The muse does not come so often anymore,
Though sometimes I need her more than ever.
I long to open my mind to her,
To let the words flow onto the page,
A torrent, unbroken, to touch emotions,
To show the world how I see it
And maybe to finally be understood.

I feel old when she struggles,
Reminded of my past, my present,
And my much changed plans for the future.
I used to dream big, and plan for years ahead,
But now, tomorrow is enough to handle.
Someday will come, but not soon.
Raised hopes are often dashed.
But still, I cannot stop dreaming, stop wishing
For a better day to come.

For these are the eyes that now see beauty,
In a flower, in a stone, in the face of a friend,
And this is the heart that still loves,
Still tries, failing sometimes, to think first always of others.
These are the hands which always rebuild,
And my body holds the strength to help them.
This is the mind that tries hard not to close,
And this is the soul that sees hope.

This is me.