I want to do spoken poetry.
I want to stand in front of children and tell a story with such theatrical illusionary magic and dimension that mystifies them to ask:
“Was that just 1 person or an entire cast?”
I want to dance… I want to tell a story with movement and music that should forever be put together. I want to give myself goose bumps because nothing matches the feeling of when your body marries music and tells a story that words could never find.
I want to wash away my doubt and pick up that paint brush to finally paint what I see when I close my eyes…and remember the yesterday’s I forgot to cherish. I want to know that tomorrow will be as good as today. I want one more chance to feel well again… if just one more day… I want to do it all- every single dream-
I want to feel every single rhythmic beat that my feet used to make- my own music created with every single heart beat- and my breath joining in to create a part of the melody: “in-in-out: innnnn-ooouuttt” so that my breathing joins the rhythm that once created a band each time I ran. It will always be my favorite band, and how I miss it so…
My brain is in a relentless conflict with my heart to make me believe that I won’t get to hear that rhythm of my band now. Certainly not now that I am so weak and already unable to do many things that I was able several years ago. I am joyful that my heart won’t believe a single thing my brain repeats.
I can’t just let my dreams all go because of an assumption. I have yet to try so many things because of the power that fear uses to imprison its victims.
I need just one day to go MY way, and I won’t ask for more than the simple ability to function.
I keep my secret existence so that I can hold the truth at a distance. If I say the words- I may hear them….and put up complete resistance. You might stop trying or hoping and dreaming… and I just can’t let my story be so unfinished. If I had my way I would change my history. I’d change so much and do everything so much earlier. Nothing stings more than not knowing enough to change the potential story. But I, for one, just cannot go down without a beam of glory… or maybe just a chance to tell the entire beautiful story.
Oh how I hate to go to sleep at night when I never know if tomorrow will be more than just a worry. Yet, if I fall to sleep, I pray: “Oh please let me have a day when my body lays down its weapons and ceases the war within itself and each and every cell rejoices.”~ Written by Jo Reinhardt-Anderson for the “I’m Not Done- What If I Overcome?” Endurance Rebellion.