Building a new me

 

I’m building a new me, out of scraps of paper

and fading ink. Parchment skin restricting

the flow of bad energy. Respecting the soul

that I carve out like cliffsides chiselled by the sea.

 

I’m going to take a clean, empty, crisp page

and let my words stretch as far as they can fit,

like footprints over a snowy scene.

I'll let my soul embody every inch,

let my mind build snowmen

out of the decreasing pain.

 

I don’t mind if the handwriting is messy

or if the grammar is clumsy,

because this is a new me,

one that needs to learn again

to find the magic in his pen.

 

I’m building, so let me play.

It doesn’t have to rhyme,

It isn’t something to perform,

just a song of memory

that hasn't yet been born.

 

There are gold mines of ideas

in every mountainous section of my mind,

there are vast ocean pools

with so many shells of thought to find,

I’ve barely started to explore.

My feet are still swaying

like a newborn deer wobbling

their first unaided walk.

 

I've yet to travel through all the places pinpointed

on this mental road map. Still to trawl those oceans

and explore the lands. Dig my hands

through all new sands, and build castles 

to store my hopes inside.

 

My thoughts are even bigger. I feel them growing.

Not a planet, but a star

that hasn’t yet started to shine.

Still just some wispy sparks

trying to catch the breeze,

but once they reach the sky

my world will be ablaze with passion

that flows in every wave.

A page of my history 

and my future laid out for all to see.

 

I’m building a new me, out of all the same old pieces

that formed the one previously,

because there was nothing wrong with the parts,

it was just the connecting lines that had

severed their link to the heart.

 

And if the words fall from the edges of the page

or if they teeter and sway before collapsing on stage,

or if they stagger aimlessly before stumbling backwards 

into another day. So be it. I will still play.

 

I don’t decide the size of the paper

only the way my words flit

across its crisp, clean surface.

For, I’m building a new me.

One that is open to all possibility,

that isn’t afraid to walk the cosmic seas,

to find the places that feel the best,

the wonderlands of far-off galaxies,

looking out in amazement at all that I can see.

And I’ll write it down for the world to digest.