Identity Crisis

  Somewhere else exists a better version of me; a well composed lady with concrete blocks for feet.  During the sweltering heat, burrowing hail, and torrential rain she continues to stand unmoving.  Her eyes are wide as her eyelashes work to shield away the elements, and she flinches not even for a second. As the people of the world throw their ropes and arrows, shoot bullets, and throw rocks her sturdy legs lock her bruised body into place like a statue of not greatness, but humility.  She is  aware of her faltering foundation, however determined to hold steadfast to self-preservation. Undignified she remains humble yet allows the hardening of her heart for protection against her emotional fuel.  Her current and constant fuel is reason.

  The muscle in her arms are laced with self control and cautionary doubt.  This strength allows for loading burdens and situational packages on the neatly organized shelves of her brain.  While her feet are concrete blocks, her legs are brick and mortar of perseverance. The small bones in her hands maintain closed fists bound by a wire of tolerance.  Her unblinking eyes are great worldly receptors, seeing past face-value everything. She wills herself to be the woman of God she was intended. She is constant, and she is aware. 

  The world around her is crumbling, the cities are burning.  The towers are falling while the wind is picking up strength.  As the sun nears the earths atmosphere she refuses to blink again.  Earth's people are tugging harder at the rope begging for her to fall. While they increase their fires of blame, she receives peace and maintains. Yet again, she is constant. 

She is who I want to be. She is the better version of me.

Brand New

I woke up to the sun caressing my arms and face,
It’s soft voice spoke out “These are careless days!”
“I will melt away the snow carrying your faults and defeat,
these rays will cleanse and rebuild replacing gray with green.”
For months my sheets held captive this body needing repair,
now the medicine is in the earth, the sun, the trees, the sky, the air.
I’ll skip my morning rituals so I can get to you in haste,
run weightless through the crowded streets not a second more, I’ll waste.
Your door stands lacking emotion, you bring life to the entryway,
I brought for you the sun, puddles left by winter hell, and a new day.
As I grab your wrist you smile ready for the spring to bind us closer,
we’ll run as we years before, forgetting to grow older.
The east holds nothing for us, so we’ll only travel west
inviting the sun to light the path of something more adventurous.
Your eyes reflect forgiveness that’s bleeding for me to accept
that there is no chance of regretfulness, only love lacking contempt.

Funny? How Migraine?!

Yesterday was my very first day at Rapid Response.  My nerves are always really shotty in those circumstances, so with the help of the amazing weather on Sunday, I took Casey to Ann Arbor for some window shopping, Bubble Tea, and a strut through the  Nichols Arboretum. This, of course wore me out by the time I got home causing me to carelessly throw my purse and it’s contents on the floor next to the front door, run upstairs to my disgustingly humid room, and pass out on my bed without lifting the sheets.  Anyhow, I woke up in the middle of the night from a dream about a wolf standing outside of my window in the storm, snarling at me in preparation for an impossible leap to my window.  It was ridiculous, so ridiculous in fact that upon waking up, I puked in my hands as a result of an immediate migraine.
Anyways, fast forwarding to the morning of my first day.  I took my medication for my broken head without food, because that would birth the start of incessant vomiting.  My medication has recently started having more of a dulling effect on my migraines, and less of a diminishing effect so I had to suck it up and be a body without a brain in orientation. Of course there are only 3 other people there, so my ops director is instructing less than 2 feet away from us and involving me in every conversation and asking me every question humanly possible.  Like I said, during this entire thing, I was a body without a brain.
My migraines start out as some sort of strange neurological malfunction. I lose my peripheral vision entirely, the left side of my body starts to numb, and it becomes very difficult for me to form sentences like an educated adult.  After the actual headache starts, it seems as though my left frontal lobe taps into my subconscious and strange “later thoughts” and “before thoughts” start spewing from my mouth without filter. Actually, I’ll just say really anything.
So here I am, participating in conversations with the most ridiculous comments… somehow relating zombie apocalypses to the DriveCam, and announcing that “I have to pee” to a group of strangers. At one point in time, I believe that I grabbed my purse and left the room.  When my Ops Director told me I could not leave, I shook my fist at him.
Towards the end of the day, I tried again to take my medication with the addition of Excedrin. I almost immediately returned to earth giving me the opportunity to explain my flighty self to this guy who probably thinks I’m a crazed lunatic.  Luckily for me, I was a hit and riot at Orientation and was apparently loved by Ops, and my fellow soon-to-be co workers.
“Make sure you take your psycho meds before coming in on Thursday.” -Justin, Ops.

Round 2: Thursday.  Hopefully I can be my normal self without a migraine inhibiting my flakiness.