where has the time gone?
or, where have I gone?
the words I used to fill up pages with...they run from me.
as much as I chase and I trap, they slip away-
like dreams you can reach but not quite hold.
they evade me endlessly.
staring at a blank page is like a mirror into my mind.
when I need the words,
all I hear is laughter at my failed attempts.
when I need the silence.
it\'s as if my thoughts can be heard out loud and are yelling.
shouting and screaming around me.
somehow the fog is lifted and I am flooded with \"what ifs\" and \"I should have\'s.\"
maybe I think too hard.
or do I not think hard enough?
do I push myself to the edge where there is nothing left to say?
or do I hold myself back so nothing can be said?
I hold my tongue so much it is like a reflex.
I try to talk and suddenly I am not in control of my strings.
I would like to cut those strings,
be a free boy.
but I am not a boy, am I?
I am a woman.
I was born with strings.
my every move is dictated by those pulling the strings.
I am like a puppet,
poked and prodded at,
told what to be and how to be it.
but even Pinocchio becomes a real boy.