She leans against a pylon in the empty train stop. Her hair is blowing in the breeze and the sounds of the rustling leaves fills her head. The season is changing.
She is not yet where she hoped to be in this new season. She is no where near where she wanted to be. Actually, she hasn’t tried to change at all.
A plane flies overhead and she can feel the rumble of the engine vibrating in her feet. She wants to run but she is paralyzed. Her feet are detached from her brain. Her toes are rooted through the cement beneath her feet, dug deep underground amongst the dirt, amongst the bugs.
A blown leaf catches on her foot. She looks down and moves her feet apart. She has been a barrier for herself. She doesn’t want to block anyone or anything else. The leaf loses grip and floats away with the wind, to continue its destiny.
The soft moments with you that brush against my reality give me the the indication that we are moving in the right direction.
You are quiet. You are reserved. You are particular.
You are strong. You are sound. You are kind.
You are many things – although sometimes I think you ignore your qualities. You avoid your feelings as if they have bad intentions for you. You hush your inner voice telling you to open up.
Your walls were built to protect you, but in the end, they are hindering your growth. You have to let people in sometimes.
I am so glad we are getting somewhere.
Stuck between two strong forces. Souls twisted with surprised feelings inflicted by your selfishness. The intentions behind your words bleed through the protective shield. She is not strong. Don’t pray on the feeble.