trapped

Trapped
Within a world continually whirling 'round
Without a thought to how I'll stay upon its ride
Up and down and never even keel
Awaking to every day the same
Trapped by a perfect dream of a nightmare
Starved, emotionally gaunt
Unable to run or hide or fight
Caged, hemmed in tight
Yearning for a rest from want
Wanting to be free
Needing to reconcile
Rejection of rejection drawing nigh
Love shall come and so it does...

With every whistling fever falls a
Token of my split in pieces heart
Like a crumbling sample cookie
Handed out in the grocery store
Given too freely
Taken for granted
Savored for a moment
And then never given time
Never provided a chance
To truly accept all the offering
Would be divinely inviting
A proof that possibilities
Lie imprisoned, even
Trapped

if only...

Time would stop standing still.
Looks didn't kill.
You could let yourself imagine.
I could lead you by the hand.
Love wasn't such a game of risk.
We weren't proximity-challenged.
You hadn't said those words I wanted to hear.
I hadn't wished and willed them into your heart.

i {heart} purple stuff

End of story.



Unrelated (and possibly related) links I wish you'd read because I just love them to pieces:

Dance Magic

A Smile In Your Voice

Passionate

A Desert Beauty

dance magic

She entered the ballroom ready to dance, well, mostly ready.

Before leaving her house she spent two hours preparing: makeup enough to make an artist blush—even midnight blue eyeshadow of all things--along with a bouncy black and white skirt, a purple shirt and a black ruffly overlay of a blouse for dramatic loveliness, and a gorgeously large purple flower for on the side of her pinned down and up curls. Velvet and satin black heels would be perfect for the fox-trot, she thought to herself, and then whisked away out the door after grabbing them.

Music was playing, pleasantly filling up the space between the dancers. She could feel the nervous energy, but did not succumb to it—yet. After practicing with non-partner after non-partner, courage and even the ever-elusive confidence took shelter in her heart. Dancing electrifies and enlivens this wounded warrior queen. She is ready.

But then, her name is called for next up and mistakes begin to be the norm. Stepped upon toes of the darling sweetheart brave soul who didn't refuse when I asked him to test with me twenty minutes before my test, immediate nervous sweat response which is highly unattractive, and the giggles (because I get all smarty pants when I'm nervous) set in hard and fast. It was near immediate after the instructor called. And before catching even one good breath, he called for the test. And I couldn't breathe to save my life.

Red and ready to run, I went in with faux confidence—remembering to look away from my partner as if he weren't pushing me around the floor in an elegantly physical adventure.

And I did it. I danced the fox-trot on the ballroom floor in a way that resembled what I had imagined myself doing. It was pure magic.

i {heart} bicycles

Today must be conquer the bike day.

As I was walking from the parking lot to my first class, I heard someone speak and so, naturally, I turned my head to see who/where it came from. There was a cyclist right up on me. So anyways, I guess I move defensively when caught off guard. The girl and the bike ended up going into the bushes. I felt badly and apologized, telling her how grateful I am there were bushes there for her to land in instead of hitting the pavement. I mean, what else could I say? I really was thankful I didn't knock her into the fence or worse--cause her to crash into the pavement.

The cyclist got her bearings and rode past the person in front of me. Once out of sight, the other pedestrian turned and said Wow! Now you know you can hold your own against a bike! I didn't think about how I could have been injured if I hadn't moved so defensively. I ended up standing my ground instead of getting run down. Just call me The Purple Ninja.

My next adventure with bikes has to do with my Indoor Cycling (aka Spin) class. I don't know if I've told you yet or not, but I really thought I might die from bike-itis when I first began this adventure called Spin class. I thought if I could ride a bike I can do Spin. No. It does NOT work like that. Spin does something worse than just riding a bike--you add a very bossy (I mean lovely and encouraging) instructor telling you to make your muscles burn and to push it up a notch when your legs feel like the muscles might start detaching from the bone.  And I am not exaggerating. I could not walk for two days without wanting to cry after my first time going.

With all that said, my pace has had to be a notch slower and lower than the rest of the class. For example, instead of breaking my legs by standing and riding a bike for two or three minutes at a time, I would stand for thirty seconds and sit for thirty seconds (or longer) and so on. However, today I decided to see how far I could push myself in order to measure my progress since it has been a month from when I  began this exercise in self-torture. And I am happy to report that I, whose legs were not made for standing up while riding a bicycle, made it through several 2 and 3-minute long standing intervals with only one 15-second break during a 40-minute workout. I am astonished at this feat of nature I have performed.

Now that I am a bike conquering ninja, I think I might be able to face pretty much anything.