Breathe in silent patience

 I sat here just hoping to finally fall asleep knowing full well that I have to work early tomorrow morning. Yet I still find myself scanning the pages of old poems and girlish dreams. Do you realize at forty six I still have hints of my girlish naivete? Did you even bother to think that after all the trauma I have survived that some little glimpse of a crooked smile would knock me over?

Perhaps that is why people keep distance between them. Even the notion of bumping into someone of my past makes me laugh. I am hundreds if not thousands of miles away. Not much of my life is the same as then. And yet I still hope for a day of hitting my shoulder against someone. Seriously the drama that is littering the mind right now. Ah but not staining an imprint upon me. 

Thoughts of "yeah maybe" or "rock on" follow right afterwards and I find myself chiding the very image of a high five pouring through. In rough moments I dredge up lots of scorching acid. All of which can reinfect my very spirit and divide my soul into segments. 

As I sigh once more, the need to scream halts all else and yet I see that nothing is really accomplished when I do that. Just makes a rather hoarse dry throat. 

See the need to explore people and find my feelings is up there with finding a voice to talk about all that was my past. Yet did you know I only really drop them into this blog when I am sore, internally. I only hope those who want to find all parts of me, ask many questions. 

Only for the fact that I dislike asking questions and I would really so love to answer a full reported questionaire. Though for someone to want to do that, well as childish as it is, sometimes the best reward unfolds.

Though, what is the reward? Is understanding how odd I am really a reward for anyone, probably not. And as much as I want to be joyful in that someone wanting to extract, I also recognize that I have many sections and fine lines that are darkest of black. 

So my question for  you is : when are you going to ask me questions? When are you going to demand to know all parts, accepting the response whether good or bad? When are you going to be comfortable in knowing?

Alas I just request my mind to shut down long enough to rest and to find myself in dreamland. Until I awake and take control of me. Forgetting the poems or requests I have the day prior. Only for the factor that once more  I have made it through the day quiet, silent almost with how I feel. 

Perhaps that is the goodness of a hope. Patience.

Whatever it may be, I can be sure that I wake once again to breathe once more, solitude. 

So when will the morning begin with feelings?