pensive 🌱 acorn

reveries • poetry • thoughts 31

[pensive-acorn]

"...for darkness sets my soul ablaze - what wonders I may find."

2 Feb 2018

[pensive-acorn]

I used to hate Sunday evenings - the way that they’d herald an end to a quiet and small reprieve, and fill me with such dread for the week ahead full of noise and masking and forced interactions and bring me back to a home that never quite felt right.

But now - this evening, and every Sunday evening I have now, they’re gentler.

[pensive-acorn]

I fell in love with domestic daydreams - picturing a life with your hands around my waist.

[pensive-acorn]

i just want to feel that safe again.

[pensive-acorn]

I can’t truly begin to put to words just what I gave to you - there was a vulnerability that I am not sure I still possess.

[pensive-acorn]

I’m spiralling and sinking so very quickly - but I can’t find the strength to pull the ripcord.

[pensive-acorn]

I want you to understand what I mean when I say always.

It is not in the way that I casually give none-committal responses to the world when I am barely keeping my mind in check socialising.

It is not in the way that a coworker will cover your ass.

It is not in the way that I tell a pair of sparkling eyes that the sun will indeed be here in the morning.

I mean that I have come to know that you need a second set of hands when you are chewing on the next move.

I mean that I will happily reach something on a higher shelf, or learn to stop putting the glass you prefer just out of reach.

I’ll be patient when you ask for my attention and when you go to bed and I’ll await your finished thought.

I order an extra potato-taco because I know you love them.

And in thick or thin, through high or low I want to make sure you know that you are safe.

Always is the promise that I can make without saying I love you.

[pensive-acorn]

I should be sleeping.

Instead of holding it together I should be busy dreaming. Why is this the time of night where the walls are paper thin and silence feels strangely forbidden?

How many ways can I read into something - it’s supposed to be simple: you want it go do it.

And the kindness that is shared just trips and stumbles in the dark and everything is threatening at night.

Please listen to what they say instead of what the world taught you to hear.

You should be sleeping my dear.

[pensive-acorn]

Hold my hand at night when it all becomes too much.

Tell me that I am enough and that tomorrow will still be here even though I’m falling apart.

Wrap me up in tender kisses, gentle whispers and silent understanding.

I yearn to be held like shadow holds onto candlelight, like wind carrying leaves and like apprehension catches breath - a delicate and loving embrace.

[pensive-acorn]

In quiet moments I find myself still wishing on stars.

[pensive-acorn]

I am still just yearning for a passion that consumes me.

I used to write about this desire to burn with a radiance that I honestly thought will fulfil me - that by shining so brightly I could measure up to whatever standards I came up with in my head.

I chased that for what feels like a lifetime only to have found a charred and withered husk.

But burning out took far more out of me than I had thought possible.

[pensive-acorn]

I still think about your nose and the way that light could catch and shine through your eyes.

The moment I met you I tried to count every little freckle that dotted your face.

Paramore and camping and flannels and autumn breezes will always make me think of you.

I wish to this day that I told you: for a season you were like the wrens I’d wake to in the morning; You breathed a warmth back into me that I wasn’t sure that I would get to feel again.

[pensive-acorn]

A constant of my experience is this sense of incorporeality. It feels like reaching out to touch a friend, hold or catch something in free fall or shout to be seen but life just skips and im missed.

I catch opportunities via side-long glances. Turning the corner just to miss the meet-cute. Answering the phone just as the last ring ends.

So much of the time I am reaching out to take life by the reigns just to have them slip through my hands - weightless and like a breeze.

[pensive-acorn]

I just wish that I could escape the puzzles. I think that I finally unravel something and only end up more lost and clueless than I ever was before.

I feel just hopeless and overwhelmed and consumed and bitter and burnt and dried up and over-exposed.

What even is the point anymore? What shiny glimmer lies to be discovered? There’s just this sterile, hollow feeling that waits for me at the end of my days.

I am so tired of living my life from behind panes of glass. I want to have meant something - I want to mean something, to be more than just a nursery rhyme or to wistfully flit about my day: some busybody running in a wheel.

I could have been so much more than this.

I should have been so much more.

Why am I never enough for you? You who could never judge someone, who could never tear apart another soul - I’ve been reduced to nothing more than a whipping post for your cruelties.

[pensive-acorn]

truth: I feel like a failure - I’ve spent so much time running from the home that I grew up in and praying for a place that I would belong in, searching for a place to call home, for a place that was safe.

It’s as if I never left.

I’m still caught between a hard place and a rock, Im still trying to convince myself that it’s not all as bad as it seems, and still trying to just hold it together.

But it’s cold here and I am tired and have just let the cycle turn over again and I failed because I didn’t do anything to stop this.

[pensive-acorn]

My youngest nephew just had his second birthday and his mom had put together a wish list of fun presents she thought that he would enjoy.

I stumbled upon this really fun and cute little 'Camping Playset' that struck me as familiar and just had to get it - on the off chance that it would taste and feel the same way that it did when I was five, even if just for a second.

A few weeks later and we're opening up the playset, and immediately I'm hit with a wave - a lot of the toys are slightly different, updated or coloured and designed differently, but a small handful are the exact same things that they were from 25+ years ago and that was crazy to me.

It felt like such a life time ago, and now here I am, crawling around on the living room floor 'camping' and encouraging this little ball of sunlights imagination and playfulness.

[pensive-acorn]

I have so much that I want to say, so much that I want to do and I really don't know where to start - and that is usually what keeps me from doing anything.

Or, I get so stuck in my head or going down memory-lane and am just over powered by nostalgia.

Fleeting moments from my life: my child-hood, my parent's living together, separating, school, being a teenager way to pre-occupied with fantasy than enjoying the liminal stage of my life, early adulthood and how close I was to living so freely - yet how incredibly wrong I had gotten just about everything.

And now I'm walking around in grocery stores or running errands and am hit with the realisation that I am suddenly the adult, just trying to squeeze in a food run in-between work and rushing home to take part in the afterschool activities with kids - all of those times from my childhood just people watching when we were in stores and now that's me over there, just trying to get through the day.