Sometimes, someone will insist that your book is not finished. So, they go and they fish it out of the seas; they hold it over you, wringing out their words while drenching you in your own stream of consciousness. Those old words ~ profane and cruel ~ falling torrential all around you; most searing upon contact. As the steam rises from your flesh, you can feel the sting all over again with the rawness of I'msorry reading like a burning rash all over your body.
Now, those pages in your book are completely empty ... like you.
See, you have more room to write. The book isn't over. Now, write the good part, they insist. Write as it should have been all along.
All you can think of is the seas. How you have been prepared for the saltwater. How the weight of the all their words would keep you anchored below...
“No, this is not the beginning of a new chapter in my life; this is the beginning of a new book! That first book is already closed, ended, and tossed into the seas; this new book is newly opened, has just begun! Look, it is the first page! And it is a beautiful one!”~ C. Joybell C.
Dear Goliath,
You've given me so many stones to throw. Countless. But as always, She without sin, let her cast the first. I confess that it was not love I felt, but fear. At times, hate. At my most evil, indifferent. My failure to understand Love created bondage for both of us. Now, having found peace in the form of me in all my dramatic imperfections of who-I-really-Am, I lay the stones at your feet, unafraid, asking for forgiveness, while claiming my release from the giant shrouded shadow of what-had-been. I'm looking only towards the Sun. Hear: I am done. I wish you peaceful acceptance but should your hand desire to sling any one stone...stop...notice...how polished they've become under the churning of my own and look for your reflection.
What you wish upon another, you wish upon yourself.
And So It Is, The Queen of Is Real* *This is a reference to David, who would become the King of Israel...for those wondering.
