The World In My Words

Progress 10/8/14

I started writing,

with those fat yellow pencils,

writing on two lines, spelling even

my name wrong.

I started riding my bike,

with those annoying extra wheels,

riding on the driveway, turning around

before I even got to the end.

I started swimming,

in the little pond for children,

never getting my face wet, or putting

my shoulders under.

I started soccer,

on My Little League For Tikes team,

always asking to sub out, so I

wouldn't be blamed for our loss.

I started sleeping,

in my own bed,

with a guard rail holding me in, because I

was told monsters couldn’t climb over it.

I grew up playing it safe,

thriving to be the perfect child,

trying to please everyone,

hoping I wouldn't let them down.

I still write,

but now with ink, or on a key board,

taking up only one line,

spelling my words right.

I still ride,

and without those extra wheels,

now even at night,

turning around only when I lust company.

I still swim,

but now on a team,

holding my breath the whole way to the other side, even when

I desire air.

I quit soccer,

when I realized I was never good that good,

now I don’t ask for subs, and I

take full blame when I lose games.

I still sleep,

in my own bed,

but with no guard rail, making me

vulnerable to the demons.

Now, as I am older,

I live with only my own restraints,

holding myself back from nothing,

and everything.

I am a free spirit,

scared of messing up,

scared of falling,

scared of drowning,

scared of playing,

scared of dreaming.

I fear not myself but the things I am capable of.

Capable of learning,

capable of discovering, and

capable of thinking.

Surprising myself with my own thoughts,

I lay in bed at night,

thinking more than sleeping.

But from where I've started to where I've come,

I am pleased in my growth, failure and success.

I am progress in a broken,

 and bound back together kind of way.