What's going on here?

What's going on here?
Well Amanda and Emily both have goals to write more. Amanda wants to write a poem and a half a day for the next year, while Emily wants to write for National Write a Novel Month (NaNoWriMo), which is usually in November, but she is going to do it from now until her mission on May 18th. Here is were you can follow us in our goals! Leave comments, encouragement, and what ever else you feel like.

Saturday, January 7, 2012

One Way Pessimist

I’ve always been the light one.
The half glass full
The end of the tunnel seer.
Except for in one regard.
My heart.
That is the one place
I doubt my footing.
I stand head held high
Voice strong
In every other aspect.
But my heart
My heart was born imperfect.
Already worn too thin.
And I’ve never trusted it to anyone.
Sure there are people with rings around them
From where I clung so tight.
But they never had my heart.
The people that are supposed to have it
The people that you are born to trust
They don’t even have it.
I guard it so carefully
Because I know with the wrong breeze
It could shatter.
And I don’t want to be that person.
But I’m scared that its changing me anyway.
Scared that because it’s the one regard
I don’t see the brighter side of
That I will lose my sight completely.
Someone once told me that if she met the love of her life
And knew it
And he asked her
She’d say yes.
I know I’d say no.
I know it.
To my core.
Because I’ve seen too many people fall apart.
Seen too many tossed away uncared for hearts.
And mine is so fragile.
So withered and pale.
Barely beating out legatos
When everyone around me is staccato.
 And I can’t find the right words anymore.
Mumbling things.
Fumbling with masks
Trying to hide from people I know don’t care.
And hiding from the ones I know do.
And covering up all the smiles I see
With thumbs turned sideways
One eye closed
Like a painter sketching out a scene.
Because even just seeing other people
Handing their hearts to others
Makes me cringe and ache.
And I wonder if I’ll ever see the glass
As truly half full.
Or if,
In this one regard,
I will be the eternal pessimist. 

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