This too shall pass

With my ink and papyrus I used to drift away that the pains of the now could touch me not. But the storm rages and I, I am on a broken path seeking solace that flees me. My tears cannot be enumerated. Nor can they be harvested into some bottle, for they are so great in number so as to flood the nations. I have not allowed myself to be true to the one who knows me best.... my heart. I am not strong. I yet wait, for I am sure this too shall pass.

I used to release the contentions of the world with ink. Ingurgitating line after line and digesting them, or them me, until we became reflections of each other. One day the pain weighed too heavy and my greatest gift became my sworn enemy. No one understands. I cannot speak. I never could. I can write. But who hears when I cry. I want to scream and be heard. I long for the comfort of more than just the lines on the blue tinted paper with Babu sitting in the upper right hand corner. I need to feel and to be felt.

Alas, I departed from you, my friend. I wanted to live on my own and learn the pleasures of a world I have sat on the sideline of my whole life. I left you and tried desperately to not look back. Temptation grew and I fought until I was finally rendered unable. My spirit was broken, is broken. I want to overcome.

I transformed into this prodigal child finally allowing myself to cry tears of ink. My soul bled onto those lines as they did once in another life. It was a much happier life. I understood then. This pain shall pass. The desperation has. I will deny myself no longer. I have broken the shackles I bound myself with. And my heart waits for the day as my soul gently whispers "This too shall pass."

I can once again speak the words of my childhood. They made me into a woman. Le soleil se lèvera. Tu ne dois pas pleurer chouchou. Tu n'étais jamais seul. La nuit doit descendre. C'est une réalité sombre. Mais Dieu a placé tient le premier rôle parmi l'obscurité pour illuminer ton monde même alors. Prends ton stylo et ton encre et faits l'amour aux pages. Elles te maintiendront vivant. Cela et la grace de Dieu. Ceci passera aussi.