Back to being me

I feel the power coming back to me with every word that my fingertips spill onto the screen. The storm that brewed inside my soul is finally subsiding and the chaotic thoughts no longer float through the space of mind. The burning in my eyes is less severe, my breaths a little deeper, my smile a bit more sincere, and I start to feel like myself, again. Here I am, the one I know, with the strength that they see, with the gift to go into places in my heart that others will never dare.

 I know I’m not the only woman in the world with passion so strong that its uncontained, freely flowing through the pores of my skin, even when I try to withhold. I make my way through crowds that seem to part and stare at what is before them, my fire they feel as I walk by. They may not be able to understand and the slightest touch may leave a burn to their skin, but they will remember me. I’m not easy to forget.

All the things they want to say, the sounds they hear inside their heads, so afraid to declare what they mean, I’ll say the lyrics for them. I’ll compose verses to sing with the concepts in my mind, and use my tongue as the microphone to tell you what they meant to say. They hold it all in while I let it flow free, and though my words may not be remembered, the way I testify will stay in their minds, leaving them in wonderment about what has just occurred. They can dream of freedom and I’ll be the one to live it.

As the judgments come in and the opinions fly I’ll be freefalling through the world, fearless and uncontrolled. I live the life that others only fantasize of. I kiss the way lovers do in the trances that they wake from each morning. I paint the pictures that they colored in books as children and I make it all become reality. I create visions of what they would be if they ever found the nerve.

I’m the girl with the gypsy soul, the force of renewal with each ending thrusts me into new depths of thirst for something more. The acquisition of virgin minds gives me the playground to thrive, to exist in the heart of someone new, and to fill myself with a foreign smell, to experience the feel of a different skin, and fill my ears with the sounds of another voice not yet heard. And I love the feeling of something fresh, an altered connection with an unfamiliar face.

So while my words may seem dramatic to you, I’ll remember to look behind as I’m walking ahead, and I’ll wave to the beings sitting stagnant in their concrete worlds with things mapped out. I’ll live these dreams, these desires of fulfillment and I’ll be her, that girl, that woman who wasn’t scared to be all that she was meant to be, the dreamer, the one who made all the screenplay stories come to life on the stage of the world. Here I am, back again, and it feels so good to be me.