image created by Larisa-K and linked to originating site

image created by Larisa-K and linked to originating site

Sometimes… I Breathe.

Sometimes…
in my heart of hearts,
in the side of me that wants everyone to be happy and light and love…
in that part of me that is tender and believes everyone is good
and that I am here to reflect to them all the good that is in them…
in that part of me that is perennially chipper and bubbly and happy and light…
sometimes…
I can lose myself there in the brilliance of that part of me
and I can pretend that everything is in alignment with that.
It is simply “pretend,”
I know that,
but for that brief moment of blissfulness,
when all the world is faerie dust and rainbows,
I am at peace.

Then…
in a blink of an eye…
someone shows up to remind me
of what I have created
through some of the choices I have made…
that I have chosen to battle with myself,
battle with the dark,
battle for the light…
that I have chosen
to create this life as an ongoing battle…
where I am striving to be loved,
striving to be light,
striving to be accepted,
striving to fit in.
All these old patterns of strive/strife…
they are there…
waiting in me too.

When…
someone shows up to
take-take-take from me.
They do it with flattery
and kindness
and empty gestures.
I used to fall for it.
I used to think that meant they loved me,
that I was good,
that I was worthy,
that I was loved, loveable, love
that what I knew,
what I felt,
what I remembered
that all of that meant something
that because *that* meant something,
*I* meant something
I would give-give-give
to answer their take-take-take
a pattern that *I* began by
over-giving
over-loving
over-begging
to be part of something I don’t even know if I want to be part of
anymore…
if ever…

Now…
here in the darkness of the ripples of my creation
in the miasma of disillusionment,
confusion,
instability,
and absolute, abject, horrifying lost-ness
I see the approach from a mile away
I see those words that say,
“Here… hear… hear here…”
I will tell you lies
I will flatter you
I will “love” you
because you expect me to
and that expectation will get you/me/you
what is wanted
and I bow my head…
I bow my head
I bow my head
and I weep
because
Time suddenly means more than it ever has
and I see all I have given away
and I know I cannot bring it back
nor can I make it right
nor can I fix what I have done
nor can I make amends by striving
striving
striving
to take back what was stolen
give back what was taken
I cry
because
I chose this
and I don’t know how to move forward
and I don’t know how to end what I started
and I don’t know how to make them stop taking
and I don’t know how to make me stop giving
and I don’t know how to make me be real
I don’t know how to stop
the mirrors
the doors
the sliding and sliding and sliding
and I’m stuck between, staring at the open space
between the stillness of the sliding doors
and I cannot step forward because I don’t trust myself to

Scared…
I want to go back to my old ways
where I was comfortable in the sliding doors
where I *was* the doors
and the mirrors
I knew that
I understood that
I don’t know how to do what is being asked of me now
because nothing makes sense
and they still want to take
because I taught them that they could

Crying here now
and I hear what is truly being said, written, spoken, shouted…
I hear the words of the Infinite
The One who has been there
all along
part of my path
the path
the knowingness that is me
that is all
and these words are the words
I *need* to hear
because here I hear the truth
in them
it rings
I answer
and I hope that I can hear…

My child… you are not your choices
you are not your experiences
you are not your violation,
you are not your betrayal,
you are not your heartbreak
you are not any of this done to you,
you are not any of this done by you,
you are not any of this done through you,
you are not any of this done for you
you ARE the Light
you ARE Love
you ARE Healing
and no pretty words
no sugary treats
no luring contracts, agreements, negotiations
will ever take that from you
go forth and BE light.

And then…

I breathe.

© Angie K. Millgate 2016

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