The colors of spring and winter

November 8th

Pace
The speed or at which something

The way I write has been nothing short of a hike with varying paces.
At times I write near constantly, as if I'm running through the endless mud,
I write when I wake up, I write before I go to bed, and I write every hour in between,
I write while I'm waiting, while my eyes are teary or wide awake,
I write when I am inspired and I write when I am not.
At times I write as is if I am carefully treading through the woods,
Taking time to pick the flowers and smell the scent of cedar,
Each poem thought out perfectly and orderly,
Having many meanings and intents with each line.
And at times on my hike I don't walk at all,
I sit on a tree stump and stare at the sky with no words to be found.
I don't know when I will reach the scenic view at the end of my hike,
Although I hope someday soon I will be able to share what I've discovered on this long walk. 

Page
A sheet of paper most often in a book.

Through these times I must remind myself,
Today, this week, this month even,
Is just a page, it's just a chapter of my life,
A chapter that will soon be over.

Panic
An intense fear or sense of terror.

The day has drawn on, it is time for rest,
I step into my bed after turning the lights off,
Soon my heart starts beating faster and faster,
I can hear the sound of its pounding in my ears,
My breath becomes more shallow and starts to race my heart,
The tears fill my eyes but don't fall,
The thoughts run by, the thoughts repeat themselves endlessly,
My brain has many ideas, very rare a good one comes along,
I struggle to receive a full breath,
I struggle to do anything at all,
The fear takes over me completely for a dozen minutes or so,
Until enough time passes I sit in my bed,
And wait for the moments to pass.

Paralysis
The state of being completely stuck or unable to move.

The moment of relief passed,
I thought things would improve,
But they cannot help him today,
He needs to be elsewhere,
Elsewhere where I have been,
I was there a month ago,
Of course give or take,
But I know that elsewhere,
I know it all too well,
I know the walls and windows,
And I have seen the truly ugly,
When I was there many things occurred,
So much pain concentrated into a single room,
All together at once,
We were living through the worst times,
The most bitter times of our lives,
While I was there a minimum of two people were molested,
By the same person,
The staff did nothing,
Luckily I never talked to them much,
Nothing happened to me,
But I worry about what will happen to him.

Penchant
Liking something as a habit.

I've never been able to enjoy something mildly,
Because when I care about something,
It becomes my whole world.
I have never had a favorite song that I didn't listen to for many days at a time,
Breaking down every lyric and it's possible meanings,
Listening to the sound of every instrument.
I have never had a passion that didn't rain from every surface of myself.

Perception
Someone's point of view.

Perception is hard to capture in a metaphor,
But if I were to write it as such,
I'd say it's a soft rock flowing through the river,
Everyday flipping and turning as the current flows through,
Changing with the tides.

Personality
How someone is, how they behave.

When she said signs of a borderline personality disorder I was unsure of what to think,
Of course I knew what that meant and understood it doesn't sound like it should,
But it still hurt,
Because there's nothing wrong with me as a person is there?
I knew what the traits were,
I knew that few fit me,
But i am not a disorder,
I am much more than that.
I am a mushroom growing in the woods, a soft book with a green cover, a rock on the ground and a pumpkin you bought days before halloween.
I grow from the earth with my loved ones,
We push through the dirt together,
To create a lovely sight for humans to see.
I am a book you carry in your bag,
A book you pulled from your shelf,
And read bits of it every day.
I am a rock you found on a walk through the woods,
You picked me up,
Put me on your dresser,
And walk past me every day.
And a pumpkin you bought last week,
And left on your front porch,
For the trick or treaters to see.