on fire
This is not a letter proclaiming my independence from you. This is not a surprise attack; there is no detailed strategy. No plan of battle.
This isn't a telegram telling you that the enemy has plans to take your left flank.
This isn't one of those letters. It's just been so long since we talked. Today you hit my gut with a hammer. I got so used to the sound of you dancing in my garden...that I forgot you were there.
Remember that dream? There you were spear in hand, bonfire burning,you,doing your ritual life taking dance...all the soil slowly turned to ash. I stood across a field of water..watching you...a spear at my right foot...a torch at my right. My feet never moved. I stood there in a black suit...and i heard you say..
"to conquer me..you have to pick up your spear..."
The dream ended there and that fight has yet to be fought.
You must thrive on me. You must thrive on the destruction.
Everyone gets scared. I know. We all do get scared.
Its my disease. my Mental and Emotional Dictator.
how can I live when fear is in my garden.
my garden where I plant my love and my mind and soul.
how can I love when fear is in my garden.
my garden where my youth tils the fallen seeds from the trees of my heritage.
how can I grow. when fear is in my garden.
my garden.
how can i make sure you grow while the fires still burn?
love and peace
jen
