Big Hands

I have big hands. 

The first time I became aware was in middle school, when I was a victim to the jokes and teasing of the large size. I was careful to tuck them away into khaki pockets and pull them into the sleeves of my sweatshirts hoping that no one would notice my abnormality. 

The second time I was stricken with awareness was when I played the piano. My span was ten ivory keys per hand, magnificent my teacher said. Happy was I, because someone had taken my embarrassment and turned it into a talent. 

The third time I recognized that my hands were big was when I could feel my friends around me hurting. I tried to hold all of their sorrow and pain in the buckets at the end of my arms; catching tears, holding regrets. But with big hands comes bigger spaces between the fingers. I could feel it all slipping away, I desperately tried to balance their agony back and forth between my right and left hands until finally I was on my knees sobbing at the mess I had let fall from my grasp. 

The final time that I had acknowledged my hands as large was when I went out on a mission trip. I could see the beauty burst out from my lengthy fingers, spreading goodness and joy to those around it. Serving with passion, folding in prayer, holding others all of different sizes and knowing that I was no different than the rest. 

That was when I realized that I have the power to move galaxies deep within my palms. I can make something amazing. I can help others and be creative. I can send up prayers and bring down hope, and all this time I was hung up on the size of my “big hands”.  

Mondays

People usually don’t like Mondays. It’s the first day back into the work week and due to preconceived stereotypes we usually expect Monday’s to be full of nothing but dreadful events and bad luck. We complain and go through the day with our faces down and spirits low, anxiously awaiting the bell that releases us from the school we define as a prison only to go home and have to work on assignments that in the end we will probably never finish. 

I will admit that I am a huge procrastinator and I love to complain, but I recently noticed how my time to feel like this is almost up. I know we see it on social media all of the time to slow down, take life one day at a time, live for the moment, stop complaining, and live with no regrets because time goes by fast. And it’s true, as a senior in highschool I only have three more Monday’s. That’s three weeks until a schedule that I’ve known for almost thirteen years will change. 

Coming to school or going to work with a bad attitude and blaming everything on Monday will not make the day go by any faster nor will it justify why your day hasn’t been going well. But, then again, neither will bitching about any other day of the week. 

THIS IS YOUR LIFE!

Take time to realize the beauty around you, surround yourself with good vibes, don’t ever take a day for granted because no matter how bad you think your life is, somebody somewhere would trade you for it in a heartbeat. And let’s be honest you’re only making it harder on yourself.

Yes it’s Monday, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t smile or be thankful for the little things. Remember that you’re days are numbered, you have no idea what that number can be right now. So think about your attitude right now, if today was the day that your number count was at one, would you be happy with the way you left your life?

A Connection to Uncover

I couldn’t tell you the way it felt to look at him. It felt like everything I had ever wanted finally embracing me with the blue oceans of my deepest desires. And when he was close to me I was frightened by the sensation of it. He felt like home, and somehow I will always find my way back to him. But with that comfort came pain. Pain because it was seeing everything that you want and need right in front of you and having it torn away by someone who would never deserve the vulnerable heart behind it. 

I would tell myself to be happy, because if you truly love someone their happiness should be your happiness. However I can’t stand to see him give himself away to people who love him for the wrong reasons. 

I know that none of my words matter and that I’m simply an afterthought in his wandering mind, but someday while he is looking at all of the stars he will realize that the moon is missing. 

She always comes back, as will I. You never do leave the ones you love, and the ones who leave you never loved you to begin with. 

He has the galaxies in his mind and I understand that it’s easy for him to get lost. Patience is what I remind myself to have. I took our love and made a map so he could find his way back. He doesn’t remember that he has it, but when the time comes he will come across it and follow the dashes to something much greater than a treasure. 

As for the time being, I must go. For I have dreams to catch and a life to discover while he has a connection to uncover. 

Dreaming out loud.

Thunderstorm Blues

I let the messy blonde curtain cover the deep windows of my sinful soul. 

I thought about the poison that ran through my life like the blood that runs through my veins. I had always loved heights, maybe that is why I set fire to my insides and let the smoke carry me higher and higher. 

I was trying to assess where I went wrong. I heard a the first boom of the storm and it hit me. If I had demanded your attention the way thunder demands to be heard, maybe you wouldn’t have walked all over me. And if I was as fast as the lightening then maybe I would have gotten out of there quicker, instead of getting caught in your wind. 

I stirred at the tea that blew steam up to kiss my nose and thought about the only way I knew how to release the poison. 

I picked up my velvet pen and let the black ink drip emotions of love, pain, and sins into the ivory pages that are now tattooed with my words.

She looks like summer and she feels like rain, but no matter how hard she storms it can never wash away the pain. 

I leave my umbrella unopened and my rain coat off, to feel the sensation of every single drop. 

When her thunder has stopped and her lightening is gone, a rainbow is left to remind me to be strong. 

Cosmic Love

I was in the deepest love I had ever felt. It was so much more than a physical attraction, it was the kind that you never would have thought turned into anything. Then all of the sudden it was my everything. 

I didn’t fall in love with the way he ran his long fingers through his hair, or the way he laughed at anything and everything remotely funny. I fell in love with the words that poured out from his mouth and the honesty he shared with me. I fell in love with the thoughts he was brave enough to say out loud and the strength that lives within his soul. 

We were addicted to each other. No matter how much we spoke it was never enough to fill the the part of your heart that begged for them. We drew off of each other, growing through the other’s words. 

Every touch was a shock on my fragile skin, reminding me that I was all too human. Every laugh was an escape from the dreadful world. When he smiled I swear I could see the stars in his eyes. He was my cosmic love. 

He knew that there wasn’t a thing in the world that I wouldn’t do for him and he started to use that to his own advantage. 

I loved him more, but he needed me more. It should never have gotten to that point when the circumstances weren’t balanced, because that’s what threw us off. 
I just hope that he remembers who he told me he wants to be and that he remembers that there is someone out there who loves him for more than just his name. We will both move on and this feeling will become numb, I just hope he leaves knowing that a little part of me will always he here, waiting.