pieces of april

almost a year of rediscovery. rummaging through the traces of the past. uncovering, revealing, exposing. beginning to connect all of the many pieces of april.

the so-called story of my life emerging from the treasured fragments.

a book of poetry unearthed. written by my fifteen to seventeen year old self. much of it conveying raw, bleak, and bruised emotions.    

    there are moments when the darkness of night stifles me the suffocation is at times overwhelming, my only escape being tears and as they flow, they are cleansing me as nothing else can the one remaining on my cheek, stubbornly hanging on, symbolizes one last chance for survival   ~~~~~~~   i awaken in a state of confusion, after a blur of mismatched thoughts visited my dreams

nothing seems real as my eyes open for the first time that day

then the realities begin to focus i am once again overwhelmed with a tremendous sense of loss

a feeling of great emptiness sets in and stays with me throughout the day . . .

acting as a shadow   ~~~~~~~   the season is correct winter leaves its bitter harshness in every aspect

jealousy is like winter icy and harsh the forever season of my heart    

    among the rest i stand, me - unable to disband the painful feelings of sad sorrow i anticipate for tomorrow.

looking back i realize all the moans, the tears, the sighs -- they have had their way with me, there's nothing left of sanity.

release your mind and dream away, there's nothing here to make you stay if all your goals do disappear you then have something real to fear.   ~~~~~~~   at times my life is enveloped by dreams which i am lost in . . .    

    there were indeed glad times, happy days. captain of the dance team, salutatorian. stable close-knit family. loyal (and lifelong) friends.

and yet angst, despair, bewilderment rose to the surface in my poems. i think it must have been because . . . in those moments i chose to write. in those moments i desperately needed to write. my tears splashing into words on the paper, and ultimately saving me.   i think it's important to fold all the episodes of my past into who i am now because . . . that young girl's impressions and reflections played a huge role in my overall creation of self.     in closing, i'd like to share a rather serendipitous moment. just as i was putting the finishing touches on this blog post, i discovered an old notebook at my dad's house. filled with writings from my tenth grade english class.

once again i was transported back to my high school days. and to the sometimes confident, sometimes confused, adolescence that i remember so well.   ~~~~~~~   "april gave us springtime, and the promise of flowers.

we were living a time meant for us, and even when it would rain we would laugh it off.

i've got pieces of april, i keep them in a memory bouquet. i've got pieces of april, but it's a morning in may."

(lyrical excerpt from three dog night)         which parts of your history have been the most consequential for you? how have you integrated those moments into the person who exists today?   (and yes, i used lowercase letters as a teenage writer as well.)         [maxbutton id="1"]