Little Miss Amy

4/14/01

It always amazes me to read through my old poetry and musings and realize that some were actually semi-good. Pleases me, too. So. . . . in a burst of parental pride, I'm posting a few of the writings I found yesterday in a long forgotten folder. *grins* Indulge me, if you will.

Untitled

 Once upon a time, there was a girl. She wasn't all that different from
everyone else, but she felt like she was, and it was hard to be with people
because she was afraid. So she hid herself inside a label called "shyness"
and used imagination to create a world where it was easier to live, and
where she could pretend that she was happy. It worked. . . . sort of. And
she was safe.

 Then, one day, she found a place. It was not safe, and it was not easy, and
there was nowhere to hide.  But she discovered, to her complete surprise,
that in this place she felt _alive_. Here, people looked at her and saw
someone worth knowing, even when she looked away and did her best to pretend
that they didn't exist. It was amazing, they were amazing, and she found
herself thirsting to be part of whatever it was that they experienced. For
the first time in forever, the world seemed possible to live in. For _her_
to live in.

 Heaven lasts forever; this lasted for a week. She left and cried because
she knew what she wanted, but was still too afraid to go out and look for
it. So she used imagination to create a _new_ world where she could be
always in that place, and this time she knew she knew she was hiding. But
she told herself that next year, she'd go back, and be alive again. 

 She. . . . she went back, but she hurt a lot more than she healed, and the
place was different then she remembered; bigger, crueler. Not everyone
wanted her to be there. She froze, unable stand without the support of the
crutches she had called friends. They were still there, but she didn't know
them. . . . she didn't remember what she had come back to find. Home seemed
easier, suddenly; at least the rest of the world didn't try to batter her
insides. At least she was allowed to have a shell.

 And she was alive, but not the way she had been. She was part of their
world, the way she'd wanted to be, but that world pierced her heart with a
glowing silver spear. She wasn't sure she liked these people anymore. Wasn't
sure she _did_ want what they had. The laughter made her cry, and she saw
shadows standing hidden and forgotten behind glittering crystal lights. And
when she left she was glad, without really knowing why.

 Once upon a time, there was a girl. She wasn't all that different from
everyone else. . . . but she felt like she was.

AnAdmission

 Sitting in the background,
 quiet, watching, waiting too.
 Lonely, shaking fiercely
 like a deer in frozen flight
 Serenity is what they see,
 not what she is.
 Around her, laughing, screaming, 
 weeping
 The Others live and breathe and hurt
 but she is still, a living stone,
 encased in fear.