They Are

There once was a woman, a woman not unlike the one you forgot.
Her tragic downfall or secret inner strength was her inability to ever give up on anyone.
This made her vulnerable, a poor game player, though she frequented many gaming circuits. She also stubbornly refused to mute her words; an odd merging of genes on her parents part, a sort of calm enduring love fused with an unpredictable aggressiveness.


This woman, like the one you may be recalling now, was often misconstrued. People that aren't blaringly hateful attract the selfish heel of boots worn by the unknowing. Often they are not asked but expected to accept the behavior handed them. Like the brain who always gets an A, the possibility of a B or C tightens the noose around his neck at the mere notion of such a slip up, and so, too, the forgiving are viewed with such anticipated expectation that any act not entirely selfless is grounds for recrimination.


No wonder the lost choose to remain so cold.


So on this particular day, this said woman found herself mixed with a familiar unknown. New melody, same dance of uncertainty. And she stopped to look up and saw the blue differently.


Some learn gradually, others, jarringly. They become consumed with change, distractions, validity, misconstrued ideology. All in the subtle craft of avoidance. And so, many, wearing their tightened boots are unawares to the shifts falling around them. They are too lost in the business of trying to change to look up and see you already have.


The resaon they fall in love is that they accept the assumption that person sees them in a way others won't. They, where so many ignore, delight. They carry each heart as treasure, tucked safely away in the pocket of their favorite hoodie. But as with all unstable forces, love is merely a mirror reflecting images projected toward it. After an allotted amount of time the indifference suddenly forced upon each gaze creates a layer of dust in the once shimmering object. Imperceptibly, the love given, the love seen in the eyes that looked back, shifted. The clouds gathered again and what once seemed clear returns to gray.



Somewhere, underneath the blue, lies those strong enough to stay even though what's seen frightens and overwhelms. They embrace this inner child to love unconditionally instead of projecting past failures on mistaken faces. They slow down to see what lies in front of their shaking eyes.



And there are others who will gather together and stand, screaming in the rain, their words caught by the wind, sticking to trees, never reaching the now foggy hearts.


A tiny corner of each heart always houses the memories of such shattered glass, but as the years go by the space gives way to overcrowding and something must give.


Always, ever faithful, its you.