I was reminded today that there are some who get me and some who don’t by a simple “good morning”…

Hey I don’t got orange juice or milk. Can I swing by for breakfast.

To some this will mean nothing. Some will wonder who it is. Some will laugh. Some will not. And most will not understand.

A little heartfelt hello goes a long way with me. No matter the way it is said. And I’ve realized this weekend that a little hello isn’t much when many people don’t understand me. I am friendly and usually don’t know how to shut up but often times the introvert in me keeps people at bay so others aren’t aware. Sometimes I am viewed as someone not easy to approach because I am usually in thought or in my own magical world of fairies, vampires and every thing else.

But, I really am an open book.

Locked Away

I am but an open book
My heart full of stories
You need only ask to read
Of adventures, loss and glories

There is beauty in the pages
Of words written in perfect care
Sharing all the lessons learned
The walls no longer there
The pages carry a wilted world
That I hope to bring alive
Of darkness, fear and hurt
Of steps to live and thrive
The pages tote of music
That fills the heart with feels
Songs sung with vaulted emotions
To challenge your mind’s ideals

The spine is made of strength
Even when I have none to share
Strength from life’s many trials
That made me feel so bare
My spine has markings of life’s stages
Of where things went wrong and right
The scars that leave me breathless
When I trace them through the night

My cover is made of stone
To pretend that I am impenetrable
A lock that doesn’t lock away
It is just there to be impressionable
The back cover is sustained with sweat and tears
From having no strength but to stand
Marked with all the people I’ve met
Who have helped me create my brand
The front cover is shouldered with imprints
Of daily wear and tear
The door that serves to protect my heart
Blanketed by a mother’s prayer

If you are looking for some answers
Of reasons of hello or goodbye
You need only look at the ripped pages
Of visitors who sought to modify
They scribbled words to help create
A world for me to prevail
Signatures of their time spent
Because they saw me frail
If you are looking for solutions
To scale the concrete walls
A simple knock of honesty
Will get you through the halls

An open book I am
Where magic happens every day
You just need to ask to read
Of the pages locked away


I’m not sure of the purpose of this post. I sat down at lunch to write and this came out. My 30 day blog blast will end in a few days and I feel that I have been more open these last 30 days then ever before. I think my project I am working on, a sort of memoir of an experience I had, is making me really think about life and where I want it to go. It has forced me to find a way to carry on. To be a person who braves the elements and writes her story. To be a person that finally realizes the mountain I’m carrying I’m only supposed to climb. Do you find you fall susceptible to that as well?

After this weekend I know one thing: I am willing to be split open. xoxo