Portent Princess

Such a regal elegance.

See how she radiates and shines,

Sparkling like the tiara sitting upon her  head?

She’s magnetic.

Surprised at how she draws them to  her,

Slowly falling beneath her spell?

Look closer.

Listen, can you hear her words,

Lulling and guiding them into her dream?

Lady, they call her.

Lord, can you hear the pain,

Lingering beneath her colorful mask?

Forget the loneliness.

Feel the vastness of emptiness,

Frowning behind those bright eyes?

Forever she searches.

For how long can she last,

Feigning hope in a hopeless world?

Pretend no more.

Pray, can’t you see her true face?

Prodigious mess.

Please, won’t you help her,

Protecting the marvel of her soul?

Pride is her weakness.

Prince, why have you not

Pranced to her rescue?

Portent Princess.

Perfect Dream

Have you ever dreamed the perfect dream to only have it turn into a nightmare?  I don’t mean a wet dream, though those can be quite nice, I’m talking about a dream so perfect – a perfect day, a perfect love, with perfect weather, in a perfect location, experiencing perfect emotions, perfect peace; happiness; just sincere happiness; nothing extravagant, simply small, but so full of love?

I had one of those dreams last night.  I was walking down a trail, someone was holding my hand, that’s all I remember is the hands; our fingers entwined.  I heard laughter. I couldn’t tell if it was mine or his.  We were just walking.  The sun shone down on us, the wind was cool and soft.  Everything was green, there was so much green.  But, it wasn’t the scenery that made it a perfect dream.  I don’t even know if it was the company, but it was the feeling. 

I didn’t feel scared. I didn’t feel alone.  I didn’t feel rejected.  I felt complete.  I felt content. I felt happy.  I felt at ease.  I trusted who I walked beside.  I was happy with who I was.  I felt loved - completely loved. I just knew – I KNEW that I’d never be alone, that I was whole, and that no matter what happened in the world, I was going to be okay.

Then I woke.

I tried so hard to go back to sleep. For that dream, I’d choose never to wake. What hurts most is knowing it is all just a dream. I’m left wondering why I can’t have that in my life right now.  It seems I live from one trial to the next.  While I have moments between, during, before, and after each trial, each testing,  it doesn’t seem like my life ever clicks to where I have a moment’s rest. 

I’m so tired.  I’m tired of crying. I’m tired of struggling. I’m tired fighting. I’m tired of losing. I’m tired of starting over. I’m tired of being alone. I’m tired of being rejected. I’m tired of feeling helpless. I’m tired of surviving. I’m tired of having to climb out, climb up and climb over.  Can’t I stand on top for a moment? I’m sure it’s just my imagination that there are people out there in this world with an easy, happy life – devoid of disaster, tragedy and chaos.  I’m sure I torture myself with wanting something that doesn’t exist.

When we fight for something, we fight for a specific outcome.  I’m pretty strong most days, keeping purpose in front of me, encouraging myself forward, pushing myself with the strength to put one foot in front of the other.  But, there are some days when I’m not strong at all and I lose sight of that hope,  and I don’t remember what I’m fighting for.

But what choice do I have?  I’m still here. I’m still breathing.  My heart still beats. It doesn’t just stop, no matter how much I want it to just stop.  I can try to numb it with alcohol, but that won’t do anything to change the situation –except only to make it worse.  I can try to mask it in a vain relationship, but like the alcohol, it’ll only lead to something worse.  I’ve tried to exercise it away, meditate through it, and vanquish it with prayer – but it’s still there. I still wake up every morning.  My prayers go unanswered. My thoughts torture me. My body constantly aches from the extreme physical measures I put it through.

I’m split in two.  There are two parts of my soul, separated, that keep me from being whole.  I feel one part shutting down more and more every day.  There’s the emotional me – and the practical me.  My practical side is a work-a-holic who thrives in work. I’m most accepted when I work.  I’m valued most for what I can do for others, not simply for who I am. That’s great for business – and business is getting better, but the emotional side of me suffers.

I don’t know how to let that part of me be free.  I’ve kept her hid for so long trying to protect her, that putting her back in her box is easy… way too easy. Every day it gets harder to try and balance the two, to make room for her, to believe she’s important.  She feels too much.  She wants too much.  She’s a naïve child who doesn’t understand and believes in stupid shit like love – believing it’s the answer to everything. 

She believes in God, miracles, positive thinking, success and romance.  She’s got a big imagination, but her dreams torture the practical side of me, overwhelming me with faith and killing me with hope.  She’s the dreamer and I’m the one left to clean up the mess her dreams leave behind.

It was her dream I had this morning.  I want her to have it so bad, but I can’t give it to her. I can’t make it happen.  I can wipe her tears away when she wakes.

My dream, the practical side of me, is that tomorrow I’ll be strong again and forget this moment of weakness. It serves no purpose.

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

Welcome Home

For as long as I remember, I’ve always dreamed of home.  It was never a particular four walls, in a tree-lined street, or had a white-picket fence, but a feeling of being loved and belonging.  I’ve imagined a moment when I walk across a threshold, and no matter what chaos stirred outside, inside I’d find safety, security and serenity.  I’d feel a sense of solace and strength, a place to rest, lay down my weapons of warfare, and know I was connected in completeness with another life force.  It’s been the greatest dream I’ve ever had, and the influence to many of my life-changing decisions.

I sometimes think it’s unfair that some people have this reality their whole lives, and often are unappreciative.  They take advantage, use, or abuse the people who give them that sense, yet enjoy their benefits.  I learned early that life is ever unfair.  Had I not had the unfair life I’ve led, I doubt I’d love and desire that sense of home the way I do.  But, then again, perhaps that would be better, because then I wouldn’t be left with this empty, unwanted feeling all the time.

I used to think this sense of home was a myth, especially after living for so long in what would be deemed the ultimate family dream.  Yet, it was all just an illusion.  I never felt loved, wanted or accepted.  I always yearned still for my home as I did my best to provide such a sense for someone else.  I’ve felt it, briefly, in what seems like a blink of an eye, but completely.  So, I know it exists.  That only makes me want it more.

Someday, someone will say to me “Welcome Home” and I will know dreams do come true.

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

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I'm Supergirl!

Click here for the song Supergirl by Krystal Harris

Sometimes I have dreams. I picture myself flying above the clouds, high in the sky. Conquering the world with my magic piano, never being scared, but then I realize.  I'm Supergirl, and I'm here to save the world, but I wanna know, who's gonna save me? I'm Supergirl, and I'm here to save the world, but I wanna know, why I feel so alone?

Seems like a dream, but there's one thing missing. Nobody's here with me to share in all that I've been given. I need someone that's strong enough for me.  I'm Supergirl, and I'm here to save the world, but I wanna know, who's gonna save me? I'm Supergirl, and I'm here to save the world, but I wanna know, why I feel so alone?

I need someone. I won't stop till I find the one who will start belonging in my life.

Sometimes I have days where it seems I fly around putting out fires, preventing disasters, diffusing volatile situations, deflecting bullets, safely pulling jumpers off ledges in the dire pursuit and protection of my dream, to then slide my glasses back on and fill the rest of my day with the normal expectations of being a woman, a mother and a friend.  I often keep those great ‘saves’ to myself.  The empty pillow beside me doesn’t care about my achievements or can comfort my weary soul for the saves I failed to make.

My friend’s do a great job showering me with words of accolades, love and appreciation, but their words can’t compare with the security of a pair of strong arms, the admiration from a set of beautiful eyes, and the satisfaction of a genuine smile.   

What good is all the success and achievement in this world without having someone to share it? I’m not talking about just having a physical presence.  I’ve had that – and was still alone.  I’m talking about the sharing of two souls, a couple who truly understands each other, knows their strengths and weaknesses, forgives their failures and celebrates their saves. 

I am Supergirl and it’s time for me fly.  Up, up and away I ride.  This time I don’t dash to help a stranger… but to save myself.  

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

http://www.tlgray.blogspot.com

http://www.authortlgray.wordpress.com

Deafening Silence

Have you ever noticed how loud silence can be? The quieter it becomes, the louder it gets.  My thoughts are clearer; my inner voice is louder. The drum of silence beats with a steady pulse. Yet, in the clamor of silence, there's a presence of self. It says to me I'm not alone, yet I find I’m accompanied by loneliness, because, in truth, I am alone.

My emptiness reminds me of a deserted beach filled with the sound of the wind, the waves crashing along the shore, and of the screech of a seagull ripping through the air. Yet I walk alone because the beach is abandoned. I call this …deafening silence.

My home is now often filled with silence, though the echoes of life surround me; a bark of a dog, a song of a bird, a rustle of leaves, the roar of a passing vehicle, the sound of my heart beating, my breathing... yet everything is filled with the steady hum of silence, covered by loneliness.

Should I run Silence away? Drown him out with white noise? What of Loneliness? He’s been my companion for a very long time.  Should I embrace them like old friends?  That seems to be all I’m worthy or desired of being… a friend.  I’m not wanted as a lover, a companion, a partner, or a soul mate. 

I walk through the day with many friends who encourage, love and inspire me, telling me how great am I, pushing me to meet my goals. Yet at night I cry myself to sleep wondering why I’m denied arms to wrap around me, lips to brush against my brow, the touch of desire, whispers of adoration, and caresses of tenderness. Why do I have Silence and Loneliness only to comfort me?  Shall that be my epitaph?  “She was a great friend.”

I have learned to love myself.  I have learned to believe I deserve to be completely loved, wanted and desired.  I believe it with all my heart.  My hope is that someday, someone else will believe it too and I can fill this deafening silence.  Perhaps I’ll one day be the song that fills someone else’s silence as I fill their heart. 

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray