I have spent my days rendering different ways to understand the universe only to realize that it's impossible to understand the universe. I have run around collecting words and phrases only to realize that words and phrases don't fit in my pockets. So I looked at those letters on the pages and I tried to figure out a new way to understand the stars. And as soon as I thought I finally had those little sparkles figured out, I looked outside to realize that there were no stars to be seen, that they had been hidden by something else. Something that appeared as cotton ready to wipe drops of blood from a wound. It was at that moment that I realized the fluffy white cotton candy in the sky that we used to see pictures of starfish and seahorses was beginning to pour down ocean water onto my front porch. I began to realize that even though my windshield wipers were going as fast as they possibly could, I still couldn't see in front of me because the heat of our breath mixed with the cold air from outside had created a foggy film that coated the windshield. I reached forward to wipe a portal of vision so that I might be able to understand the markings on the open road, but instead of wiping away the fog, I painted a picture. I painted a picture with the words and phrases that I use to explain the world. And even though I still don't understand those words and phrases, I keep painting in hopes that someday I will. I keep painting in hopes that someday my words and phrases will find their way to your words and phrases and that someday we will realize that we were both missing half the letters needed to create the story. Someday I will realize that my capital letter at the beginning of my sentence is missing the period at the end of yours. I keep painting in hopes that when I find you I will finally be able to understand my own writing. That someday I will realize that it's not impossible to understand the universe. But until then I will keep painting, because if I'm not covered head to toe with the leftover paint from my unfinished project, then you won't be able to know whose project you are supposed to finish. Because even though I don't know who you are, the color of your eyes, or the things your hands have been through, I know that I need your hands to finish my project. I need you to fill in the words in the empty spaces that I didn't know what to do with. Without you I can only understand half of the universe, which really isn't understanding at all. To receive half credit on a school exam is to receive a giant F. I need you to help me receive the A I've been looking for, because without you I will only be the small quiet girl in the back of the class room waiting for you to turn around and notice me. I don't notice you because I'm busy scribbling words onto lined pages in a spiral notebook. Words and phrases that are meant to explain the universe. What I don't realize is that you sit two seats away with a similar notebook in hand that contains half the words I need. Someday the seating chart will change and we will be moved together so that we can peak over at each other’s writings and discover the universe, but until then, I'll keep writing.
feel my sunlight
p.s. This is my attempt at spoken word poetry on a blog with no "spoken word". It's basically an amateur attempt at poetry. I'm unfamiliar with this kind of writing but it just kinda happened. And since words need a place to be read I figured that there was no better place to plaster my ranting thoughts than the place that I always plaster my ranting thoughts. So even though both you and I are unfamiliar with what ever the heck that was I'm going to post it anyways. So here's to me expanding my horizons as a writer, and here's to you expanding your horizons as a reader.