don't speak

don't breathe life into the thoughts, the weakness, all of the pain, and the anger,
keep them quiet, keep them hidden and small, let them wither in the darkness
because they will surely manifest in the light
they will grow  arms and legs and they will inhale deeply and walk tall

keep quiet

and smile

let your silence strengthen you
let the words you long to speak, to scream, to hiss through your gritted teeth
fortify you,
let it straighten your spine
let it warm you when all you have is your will to keep the things you long to say restrained and guarded
because if you let them loose, set them free, give them life
they will grow wings and breathe fire and crush everything in their path
they will be larger than you, larger than life

and they will live forever

reset

And so, I begin again.
Regardless of the bumps, the bruises, the scrapes and flops, there are lessons.

I am still a dreamer.

Morning Pep- talk

Don't embrace the possible.
It is stagnant. It is already defeated.

Embrace the impossible, the improbable- daring you to make it contrary, to break it, to make it submit to your will.

Don't sit with the naysayers; the loud and braying mass so easily content to be swept up in rivers that glide them through already carved paths.

Run with the dreamers- those who dare to believe; those quiet, determined few who climb mountains to plant flags, and feel the lashing tide beat their chest in ardent protest as they go against its flow.

You alone know the strength of the wind that lifts your sail, and you alone should dictate how far, how fast and how long you push to reach your chartered shore. 

ambition

I want to be inspired.
I want to wake up each morning and be bursting to get to work, to have the other half of my life mean something, to do something I love without it compromising my ability to take care of my family.
I want to use the gifts I believe I've been given, to comfort, to entertain, to spur empathy, compassion, to show the world as it should be, as I hope it will become.
I want to be inspired as much as I want to inspire.
I hope I get there soon.

The target

It's your job.
It's your job.
It's your job.

She fixed the scope snug against her eye. Pulled it tight.
And there he was- the target.

It's your job.
It's your job.

She took a deep breath and the wind around her whipped up in a frenzied gust flinging dust and dried, dead things around her frantically.
It caught him too, the wind. It tossed his wavy, sun kissed hair across his forehead. Ruffled his jacket, pushed his trousers taunt against the muscles of his thighs.
She licked her lips. Expelled a deep breath.

A flash of their last night together- two nights before- pierced her concentration. She could still feel the phantom touch of his fingers running up and down her back, across her chest, between her legs.

It's your job.
It's your job.
It's your job.

Her hand tightened on the rifle's hilt. She adjusted the scope, leveled the barrel.
She looked at his face again. The smoothness of his cheek, the WASPy lines of his nose, the cornflower blue of his eyes.
He licked his lips. She bit hers.

Another deep breath in.

The barrel lifted, her finger tightened.

Release.

He fell.
Sun kissed hair slayed around his head flush with the ground beneath him. Bits of his skull, and brain matted the now red locks.

A stinging recoil rippled through her left shoulder and arm. Her nose burned with the pungency of the gunpowder.
She exhaled. The gunpowder still filled her nose. It always did. It stayed with her every time.
As did the face of every hit.

But this time it was different. His face would remain. His eyes, his mouth, his WASPy nose, his hands. He would stay.

Graham.
His name was Graham.
And she would never forget.
But it was her job. He was her job.

And it was done. 

slowly

I relax my hand and open my fingers and the little bits of you that I’d held on to so tight wisped away like smoke.

what endures

ring out the screaming hopes
the desperate dreams
the screeching, halting, dying breath of...more

the scattered bones of what has gone
show the valiant trials of our long journey
but the echoing in our flesh call for us to fight and fight and dream more dreams so that at our end we will know victory
and we will feel victorious