Patch of Wonderment

There comes a point in time when you realize that time is your forever. Which of course you already knew but the span of people is setting in as well. At this point you’ll remember the small things, except they’re the big things to them.

At this point you see some of your roots are deep and they don’t want to touch the sunlight. They refuse to feel its warmth. They open new veins, venture into new uncharted soils. And at this point there is something that’s unnerving. You know why it’s unnerving because you see, your roots are all from the same tree, but the development of how you spread in different people from the core is what gets us. Your roots are coated in substances and chemicals that venture with you into my uncharted soils. You see, you know you’re like the raspberry bush that used to bloom from fuzzy white nubs each year. They were pure, but you tainted them.

Sweet, scrumptious, deliciously mouthwatering tartness. You like to wrap my roots around yours, taste our sweet and ever dropping rotten ones. Those hold the most nutrients for you. The rotten brains hold what you crave most. You seep through bellies. Weave your way through toes. Expand through the floor and explode the blooming raspberries from ripe to rotten.

There used to be a patch in our backyard that never grew grass. Almost like a sacrificial ground for the next ripe ones to come. I wonder what it's like to be the flowers, how they feel working day in and day out mixing the right chemicals together to get just the right color. I can't imagine. But something else can. I agree that its more warped than mine, more twisted than mine, more creative and devious than mine. Its roots are coated in substances and chemicals that venture with you into my uncharted soils.

Now, while I'm sitting here in your garden that you’ve planted and tended to ever so carefully, here’s me, paused for a moment not wondering anymore. I can say, “I did it to myself” but you did it to me. I’ve been twisted. Twisted by much older a foe. This stop in time is jaw dropping. You refuse to move me for some time. Wonderment has held me still. Curse you history. Have you doomed me to repeat another one of your lessons?

You refuse to leave of stubbornness. Because you like the shade, you lack the nutritious of acceptance that once was enough. Curse you history. Have you doomed me to repeat another one of your lessons? I guess the roots you’ve twisted around me have been tainted and poisoned till I can lift myself out of this boiling pot of misery, cause we all know she loves company and this pot is always being filled. The evaporation that comes off are those that were lucky enough to get off by just tasting you once.

I am a mind with eyes. They do see; but my eyes are forced away to watch this tournament from afar, never up close. I can't do this anymore. There is a day that we can see you for all that you really are.

I was in love with the first taste. It was like that for a while. But then after a second time, things changed. It was subtle. It was kind of like evolution, but instead of generations it was individual moments changing and molding me into who I am now. Except it was subtle. When I looked back to see where I had been, I noticed where I stepped and where I stepped out of. It was frightening to see and kind of watch, but not really experience until I could watch no longer and only fully experience. I didn't see the change over time because it was subtle. I didn't see the change over time because my footprint didn't change size. I didn't see the change over time because I thought I was coasting but now I'm realizing that that's not how time works.

I’m always walking, but it's whether I’m paying attention to where I step that matters. I stopped remembering my past. I didn't think it mattered because I was supposed to be growing up but how was I supposed to grow up if I didn't remember where I was growing up from? I'm sorry self. I apologize for not paying attention. I apologize for not remembering everything that I've felt. I thought it didn't matter. I was wrong. It matters more than anything to remember. That is the most important part but to feel is the second. Like I said, to remember is the most important part, but remember, there is a day that we can see you for all that you really are. Negativity will arise, remember this. Positivity will arise, harbor this. Negativity will leave, let it. I’ve had more than a hundred happy moments, I just have to remember. I know it sounds hard. Working out sounds hard. Working out my emotional unstableness sounds hard, but it's like muscle memory. Working out my mental instability sounds hard, but it’s like muscle memory. Once I remember how it's done I can never forget, but if I do, that's okay don’t panic. Just remember I come back, because I will always come back. And I don't mean for a scare to happen, I hold no ill will, I wish myself the best of luck because fighting against the current is hard. I wish the best of luck because luck is magic, whether its believe in fairies, gods, the devil, just believe in me. I believe in the good parts of myself. Because they, he, she, these are the people worth fighting for. I, are worth fighting for.

My grandmother once told me, when she remembers it once, she never forgets. There's one thing they never told you while growing up. Once a pirate always a pirate, always on the move.

Am I a goddess? No, I'm a human being dancing across the electric carpet; I am a barefooted beautiful something. Plain and simple yet simply complex. Bruised on the knees, a constant, I am the bruise queen. It feels like warmth, not a constant. I opened the floodgates of fear and let myself get hurt. I gave into pain. It's okay to feel pain; it's okay to be in pain, because this is worth it. It always is. There's no bang for your buck if there isn't a dollar, right? That’s pain shifted elsewhere. That’s gain and loss shifted elsewhere. That’s gain in the form of adulthood. That’s loss in the form of childhood, or personhood.

If being a Girl Scout has taught me anything, it's that the last great thing I had is just as important as the new one. Nothing needs to lose its meaning. I wonder why we forget this.

To stand in a puddle so big, my tiny toes splashing away under the clear bay that was ever so large. Fast forward, to standing in a puddle that's shrunk over time, no wait I was wrong. My feet only grew larger, they take up more space now. That doesn't mean I’m taking up too much space. I can never take up too much space. I can only take time.

My feet aren't small anymore, they have veins popping out. I’m aging, and I forgot that. Like I said, the last thing is just as important as this new thing. But remember that I’ll have to hold on to everything. Every moment, of every day, at every place. Whether I believe it or not, my toes have held onto me even before I held on to them.

I saw her face; I felt my face mold into suspense as I rounded the corner; it brightened like the sun but I held a question in my eyes. I told her it’s okay, it's okay. There are pieces laid out in front of us like a table set for two. Now we’re sitting here in our garden that we’ve planted and tended to ever so carefully, I've been sitting and watching for quite some time now, I can tell her which piece goes where. Her garden pieces, my garden pieces, they overlap; they wouldn't fit if they didn't overlap together.

We used to sit under the willow tree, wallowing with you. But before we wallowed, we laughed till tears ran down our cheeks. We laughed each other silly enough to go bonkers. But that was a different time then. Now we sit together under an acorn tree. Giggling together over our span of time. This ancient game of chess, I didn't see my life as the board slowly making moves in front of my still eyes. But those moves drew my attention, I see that I wasn't paying attention, you see, chess is full of rules and pawns. I am paying attention.

Once was enough.