Echoes From A Tired Mind

INFJ | Ravenclaw | 4w5 | Female | 22 | Poet & Artist

[reighlynne]

~Fruitless Hope~

Now I'm sitting on this roof

Woken by my dreams of you

My soul is aching, shoulders bruised

From carrying the weight of you.

I fell in love,

Then f

e

l

l

to earth;

Yet still I hope for our rebirth.

~ Reigh Lynne

[reighlynne]

[reighlynne]

[reighlynne]

[reighlynne]

“Someone needs to tell those tales. When the battles are fought and won and lost, when the pirates find their treasures and the dragons eat their foes for breakfast with a nice cup of Lapsang souchong, someone needs to tell their bits of overlapping narrative. There's magic in that. It's in the listener, and for each and every ear it will be different, and it will affect them in ways they can never predict. From the mundane to the profound. You may tell a tale that takes up residence in someone's soul, becomes their blood and self and purpose. That tale will move them and drive them and who knows what they might do because of it, because of your words. That is your role, your gift. Your sister may be able to see the future, but you yourself can shape it, boy. Do not forget that... there are many kinds of magic, after all.”

~Erin Morgenstern, The Night Circus

[reighlynne]

Why can't I find my inner balance of appreciation for dark and light? It seems that as soon as I think I'm doing better, I plunge off the deep end once more...

I wonder how long before I can appreciate the sun again...

For now, I shall continue to find the bright spots in life from the prison within my mind. A camera, pen, and notebook will hopefully be the friends to bring me to the surface— as they have always in the past.

.

~Reigh Lynne

[reighlynne]

| People and Puzzles |

People are like puzzles.

People are not puzzles because they are tough to figure out— no; rather, it is the transformation from shattered fragments to fractured masterpiece that is so similar to the human condition. When a man is born, he is a box of broken and confused pieces dumped out onto the table of existence. He is unsorted, helpless— a mess.

The hands of life and experience slowly bring about a half-done image, a partially completed project that only brings frustration and discouragement to those who glance at it. It's when the puzzle is nearer to completion that the true worth of its existence is seen.

The beauty of a puzzle does not lie in the perfection of the finished image; rather, the beauty lies in the spiderweb of fractures— the lines, curves, cracks and angles— that show proof of a broken masterpiece brought together.

People are like puzzles. Their true worth is seen in how their broken pieces come together to create the stunning masterpiece that is Healed Humanity.

.

~Reigh Lynne

[reighlynne]

| Objects in the Mirror |

"Objects in the mirror are closer than they appear." The words in bold print on rearview mirrors subtly take up residence in one's subconscious from the first moment they notice the warning typed over the reflection of one such "object" lurking in the small frame of existence right outside their vehicle.

The threat remains throughout the vehicle's travels, regardless of the miles and landscapes it leaves behind. No matter what lies ahead, the ominous "objects" edge closer, larger in the corner of the eye; however, the shadows are often placed in the mind's blind spots, left to fade. They never appear close enough to reality to have effect on anything but the mirror itself.

So what happens when the object creeps up and is suddenly upon you? When it overcomes you? What if the vehicle's entire journey is purposed to run from the figures in the mirror? What if those figures in your mirror are closer than they appear?

.

~Reigh Lynne

[reighlynne]

~A Thought~

I make a mistake;

I blunder, I trip.

You watch me fall;

You stand, towering over me, 

Not caring how or why I stumble.

I look up, eyes sparking defiantly,

But only to hide the glisten of tears.

You judge

I burn under you gaze,

Receiving a yellow list of offenses.

They define me now,

For that is how you see me.

Ignoring the hidden plea,

Punishing imperfection from your righteous pedastal:

I am cast away--

Another promblem forgotten.

Your unwillingness to help me,

Your reluctance to get involved--

It scars me.

The thick callouses shield me,

Blocking the voices of future concern and advice.

I tread on through life,

Unchanged.

My will stubborn;

More hardened by your words,

Than the fall itself.

It could have been avoided. 

You could have listened.

You had the chance to Intervene--

To change a life,

To mold a mind.

But you miss the root.

I never change.

You brushed away the chance to help.

I never change

.

~Reigh Lynne

[reighlynne]

~Chasing Whales~

As the day begins to close,

I find myself between the rows

Of golden sun and dappled trees

Midst dancing light and trembling leaves.

.

Setting fire burns the sky

Whilst framing gulls with scarlet dye;

A geyser springs from distant view,

Mist rising through the fading hue.

.

Sprint past pines and crumbling rock--

To jump the gate, ignore the lock.

I follow pull of creaking waves

And seek the salty breeze I crave.

.

Leap from sand and slice through blue,

The liquid life that cyclones brew;

I take a breath, the sting dies down--

Why sink to swim or breathe to drown?

.

I know they're close: the current pulls--

A gentle rocking, drifting lulls

Me; farther from the foaming shore:

Far from a freedom held no more.

.

Holding tight to trace the lines,

Each scar a story set to rhyme--

I hear the groan of secrets deep

As I am lured back to sleep.

.

~Reigh Lynne

[reighlynne]

An Apology

I wish only to lie under the stars and dream of the future from the view point of the past.

.

Due to packing and prepping for college work this summer, I have been unable to post new content for a bit. I apologize profusely.

I will be uploading regularly once more in one week.

~Reigh Lynne

[reighlynne]

"I love cemeteries... It's a city of dead people that don't talk back."

.

~Anonymous

[reighlynne]

~Memory Lane~

(Edited)

I took a walk on cobblestone

A Road well worn by time,

And came upon an Ivy Gate

Adorned with ancient rhyme—

.

The Lock, red-dusted,

Lost and rusted,

Hid a world behind:

.

Rows of houses, books, and graves

That none— but I— can find.

.

My hand came light upon the latch—

The Road gave me its key;

I danced with shadows 'round these Ghosts

That seemed to come from me.

.

This Dream, long wasted,

Waxed and waited

Til I could not see

.

The difference between "could" and "would":

What can— and cannot— be.

.

~Reigh Lynne

[reighlynne]

[reighlynne]

"I think the moon holds the remains of my reality."

~Reigh Lynne

[reighlynne]

| Some Words on Hope |

Hope has a funny way of being invisible until you are about to wither away and perish:

Right when your last petal turns brown, it explodes from behind the clouds, overwhelming you with rays of emotion that you aren't capable of handling.

Hope may not always be visibly in front of me, but it's a comfort to know that it's always there.

.

~Reigh Lynne

[reighlynne]