Cemented Heart.

sk_murcln7

The ice princess, now cemented heart, about to freak out on the innocent and the translucent. I just want some relief, whatever that may look like. I don’t know if it is near or far, but the feelings of a trapped animal are all too familiar. I want out. I want out of the pain, the grief, the disturbance of this reality that I did not ask for. I want out. There is no way out, only in and through. Do I have the energy or stamina to commit to this process? In the natural, no freaking way, however, I chose a path in which I wanted the supernatural for everything, so this is absolute reliance on the Creator, not me. I can’t. I just can’t. I have nothing, but in Him, I have everything. I submit, I surrender, I give up. I really do. I don’t have one ounce of any thing, but nothing to give. I am D. O. N. E. Seriously. My hair is always clean, but there just might be one day it aint. That’s right, I just used improper English. Do I care? No. I don’t. My house may have lego here and there. Yesterday that would have made my whole world crumble…today…I don’t care. I really don’t. Step on it. That is what I am doing. Stepping on lego bodies, lego cars, lego pieces, I DON”T CARE! I am not in the head space to clean, to sweep, sweep, sweep, I am freaking done. Let this process begin. I have nothing to lose. I have already lost what meant so much to me. Let’s get down to business Jesus. I am ripped, wrecked and ready to roll. Despite it all, as Sean would have said to me at one time, I am still the greatest.

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June beauty.

fantin_latour103

Her legacy embraces me in a way which delicate brushes against the space between touch and impression. Grief. Have I grieved? There was a closure on the last day. It was hot. It was end of June beauty. She liked it this way. However, with the comfort of my nightgown, or the seemingly softness from the silk of my blouse, I cannot escape the loss pain. I am grieving. I am healing, but I am releasing. It is all I can and all I know to do. Death is not as black and white after all, but the very color of every color ever spoken into existence. These colors paint the very image of every life ever lived. And it is her life, a portrait that remains in a focused stillness, painted for the end of June beauty.