Love Story in Your Head

Love Story in Your Head

I came across my old diary today
The words my old self used to say
Immortalised to memory
Is the way my old heart used to beat

I thought if I could go back in time
Would I change the way I used to rhyme?
The poetry of a little girl
Told lies of how love spun the world

He loves me, oh, he loves me not
One glance and then she’s just forgot
But one glance to her means so much more
Though his charm is but tall tales of lore

One day, she thinks, she’ll find her prince
And he’ll embody everything
Those parts of her she wishes won’t hide
He’ll draw them out from deep inside

One day, she dreams, things will be okay
Life won’t always be this way
When she’s grown up, it’ll be her time
And like the stars, she knows she’ll shine

But it’s all a love story in her head
And it’s hard to read back on what she said
Those things she desperately wished to be
Are but tales of a young girl’s fantasy

Those things she hoped to one day find
She didn’t foresee she’d change her mind
The world is a different kind of cruel
From the prison walls of her high school

I think if I could go back in time
I’d tell her she would be just fine
I’d say to keep writing what she feels
For writing makes it that much more real

As for the love story in your mind
Keep writing it, for it keeps hope alive
Now I came across my old diary today
I read it, I smiled, then I put it away.

© Lily K. Lynn 2012


The Last Chrysalis

It’s been a while yet again. I’m not sure what’s going to happen with this blog after I head off overseas next month. I’d like to try to keep it alive, even if the gaps between posts is a little long. For those curious, after a brief ski trip in New Zealand, I’ll be heading off to Thailand to earn a CELTA qualification, which will enable me to teach English in foreign countries (or at home, if I end up back here). This isn’t exactly the life I imagined for myself (because believe me, I NEVER in a million years expected to become a teacher. In fact, I promised myself I wouldn’t), but lo and behold, look where I’ve ended up. So while everyone else I know is taking off in their high-flying corporate careers, settling in a comfortable lifestyle or heading in that general direction, I am once again embarking on a turbulent path that may or may not lead anywhere, which leads me to the topic of today’s poetry: the late bloomer.

I never thought I was a late bloomer, but in every aspect of life, I find I am. And it’s pretty miserable because you don’t feel like a late bloomer; you just feel like a screw-up most of the time. I read this somewhere recently: “On the road to great achievement, the late bloomer will resemble a failure” (from this article written last year: – a good read if you have some time). This really struck a chord with me, because I do look like a failure at this point in my life, and I’ve certainly been feeling like one for a while. Everyone who’s followed my blog for a while likely knows I abhor societal expectations, and yet I find I’ve been sucked into it all the same. It’s hard to go the other way when everyone else you know is moving with the current. There is somewhere I should be at this stage of my life, but after accepting I may just be a late bloomer, I think it’s okay that I’m not. I’m still fighting against feelings of self-doubt and self-loathing, but my timeline is just a little different from others and I have to trust I’ll end up where I’m supposed to be sooner or (more likely) later.

The Last Chrysalis

It seems she will never grow her wings
And feel the joy that flying brings
Life seemed okay and then it stopped
Now she can’t see what lies on top

She’s still like winter bleeding snow
She’s lay through seasons others won’t know
And yet it seems she can’t break free
She’s stuck in her own history

Her friends took off so long ago
She stays behind, still going slow
They’re flying places she ought to be
And talk about all that they’ve seen

She knows that soon they’ll disappear
They can’t wait for her, year after year
And she’ll be left alone in the cold
Trapped inside this strangling mould

With wings that struggle to be grown
How can she make it on her own?
All that’s left, all that remains
Is flickering hope that burns through pain

Yet she doesn’t want to hope for change
She’s always been a little strange
For hoping brought her down before
Now she won’t dare wish for more

Perhaps today is forever for her
Eternity is as she were
All she can do is wait for next spring
And maybe this time, she’ll see those wings.

© Lily K. Lynn 2012

It Keeps On Raining

It Keeps On Raining

Feel like walking in the rain today
Till I’m soaked from head to toe
Till all that’s real becomes unreal
And each breath of mine unknown

I want to feel weighed down by the water
And to feel that it’s okay
To be stuck here just for a little while
Come what might and may

My tears will mix with that of the clouds
And the difference will disappear
The puddles I sink so deep into
Won’t matter when I’m stuck out here

And maybe I’ll just remember
Things happen in their own time
I’ll become the person I’m meant to be
I’ll find those things I’m meant to find

I hope the rain will wash away my regrets
The feeling of disappointment that runs in me
All’s lost now and I’ve sunk so low
From all I ever wanted to be

But the rain will keep on falling
And the sun will always rise
And I’ll keep walking my own path
See the world through my own eyes

I wish to lie in the midst of an empty road
And have the rain drench me through and through
Wash away the broken pieces
And leave me as someone new

They say to see the rainbow
One must live through the rain
To understand what happiness is
One must live through the pain

I don’t know what’s meant to happen now
All I have left is to keep going on
Keep walking through this heavy rain
Keep fighting those battles left to be won

The only thing I know for sure
Is this path is mine alone
And I’ll walk it at my pace
For it’s completely, totally my own

And as I walk this angry storm
The rain is hard to see through sometimes
But occasionally, when you least expect it
There’s that glimmer of hopeful light.

© Lily K. Lynn 2012