I'LL BE OKAY (Amanda Marshall)

Its time to let ya go
it's time to say good-bye
there's no more excuses
no more tears to cry
there's been so many changes
i was so confused
all along you were the one
all the time i never knew

i want ya to be happy
you're my best friend
but its so hard to let ya go now
what could have been
I'll always have the memories
she'll always have you
fate has a way of changing
just when you don't want it to

Chorus
throw away the chains
let love fly away
till love comes again
I'll be okay

Verse 2
life passes so quickly
ya gotta take the time
you'll miss what really matters
you'll miss all the signs
I've spent my life searchin
for what was always there
sometimes it will be too late
sometimes it wont be fair

Chorus
Throw away the chains
Let love fly away
Till love comes again
I'll be okay

Bridge
I wont give up
I wont give in
I can't recreate
What just might have been
I know that my heart
Will find love again
Now is the time to begin

Throw away the chains
Let love fly away
Till love comes again
I'll be okay
I'll be okay
I'll be okay

Can't hold on forever baby,
Can't hold on forever baby,
Can't hold on forever baby,
I'll be okay

I seek release. I have honed my wings well enough to fly. I desire to explore places I have never been, and talk with people I have never seen. But all I have been doing so far is wait. Wait for what? I do not know. The cord that binds my feet to the ground scrapes repeatedly against my skin. As if to remind me of my continuing agony. Poking the open wound that does not only continue to bleed, but is also filled with dirt. Attempts at flight fail. I have my hands, though, to sever the cord that traps me in myself. Somehow, despite all the opportunities, despite the desire, I do not stretch them out to free my feet. I wonder if I will forever be content with what I have and where I am. It seems that way right now. I am discontented, but at the same time filled.

I would like to fly off, but do not. I would like to be free, but cannot. I seek release, but will not. No. Not today.

Maybe tomorrow.

She could hear their voices. Accusing. Screaming louder than when they caught her dropping coins in the toilet. This time, the problem was not her. It was money, infidelity, and all things only adults would care to fight about.The obscenities flew everywhere. She sought silence, escape, but only thing she could do was crouch behind her grandmother's 50-year-old full length mirror and hide her head to block the sound. "Stop..." she cried to herself, rocking back and forth, as if movement could somehow ward off whatever pain was swirling around. But it would not go away. She knew that if she crawled out from where she hid, they would only come after her, instead and, probably, fulfill their threat of shoving her inside a flour sack and hang her up the front yard's mango tree. The price she has to pay for being concerned with other people's lives. Even if it was her family's. Because they need someone to take the blame for the things they did. And because they thought her innocence would help her forget.

*needs improvement

what is the use of an active mind when the rest of your body is dead? i wish i had telekinetic abilities so i could will the abstracts to appear on my monitor.

"The Devil Wears Prada" should be an interesting read.

*writer currently exercising her telepathic abilities for that nicest of the nice person to search it for her so she could buy it.... uurrmm... uurrrmm..

Today, I strain to search my mind for something to write about. Okay, I admit it, I have been walking on the edge without a harness for days, but heck, not writing doesn't kill. Or does it? Days of repetitive editing and abstracting somehow taught me to be more functional than creative. I am fulfilled at the end of the day knowing my office output has brought a smile to my boss's rather sullen expression. I reach home anticipating the next day, not because I look forward to another work day, but because it spells activity and consumed time. (sometimes, I view it as a means of escape to my otherwise uneventful life) I do not even miss sleeping. Life is too short and chaotic to snooze through. At 21, dreaming of a hyperactive lifestyle is as natural as sleep. And since I don't sleep, I dream awake.

(I'll continue this some other time. I suddenly faced a blank wall and my right eye is itching.)