Living my life
On the bleachers,
Watching from afar
The moments
That passed in front of me,
This is the life I knew.
They tell me
Most people don't live this way,
That most see
In simpler terms,
A life lived
Rather than observed.
It's funny
That sensation
Still in my chest,
In my gut,
That startling feeling
Of panic that hits
Just thinking of what
Lies underneath that armor.
Those rooms that used to
Wait for me in my dreams,
The sheer disgusted panic
That waited for me there,
A place that thankfully
Doesn't haunt me
Like it did before.
I wondered often
When I could reach inside of me
And try to figure out
What went wrong there,
What hurt me
In the quietly tortured
Spaces in my mind.
It's funny isn't it
The amount of control
This seemingly minor thing has,
A mind
A brain
A simple organism
That occupies so little space,
But makes up so much
Of what I am.
I resented it
Back then
When I was younger,
When I was new
To This World,
And all I could think of
Was why I had to do it
All over again.
Why I had to come so far
To gain so little,
A mere child
In a body occupied by a mind
That remembers so much,
But could do me no good
Until that right time had come.
That time you might be asking
Was when the half of me
That knew too well what waited,
Was done simply passing the time
Until the lowly Earthly half of me
Could finally catch up,
And do more than
Be an ever present reminder
Of how Mortal bound
I really was.
I passed through my life
As if I was bored already,
Waiting for my Two Sides
To become whole
Resenting the time it took
For the rest of the This Life
To take shape.
Some say that those born
Of Two Halves
Aren't Sacred at all,
That it's simply our brains'
Overly complicated processes
Learning to survive
What can't be undone.
Still others will tell you
That it's a luxury
To know The Self in it's entirety
That only few
Will ever know.
Either way it's a space
Inside the world
We think we all live in,
That takes it's toll
On those who live there.
A price paid
By the years of knowing
How much the Soul remembers,
And the ever taxing
Debt owed to the Earthly shell
We only temporarily occupy.
We can only hope then
That the wait
Is worth the ride,
The pay off
Of experience we all endure.
So that someday
What we all shared here
In This Lifetime,
Can be something we offer
Of ourselves,
So that others won't have to endure
The same shame
And broken promises
We still remember.
Is it worth it
The pain and the suffering
That we carry with us,
As we all look forward
To our own version of someday....
I suppose it all depends
On which day
And which person you ask.
I like to think
What we are is meant to be,
And
That we can choose
To be be something more
Than what we would be otherwise,
If we had chosen to be
On the easier Path.
I don't know
If I'll ever be able to
Answer that question for sure,
But
It's the road I go down
Each time I cross that fork in the road,
So that maybe someday
No one else
Has
To.
