by Amy M Swanson on Mar 30, 2011. © Amy Merideth Swanson, All rights reserved Sleeping sleeping... for so long long have I been gone from myself? Always have to be the perfect "this" the perfect "that" for everyone... except the one in whose skin I live. And in the end... for what? Fear... walk on eggshells don't make waves -- or else the boat will rock and I might drown-some might ask is this existence? stirring deep within a girl I used to be yet never was a girl I once began to know... full of life and hope and vision but then...

life happened. Life is a mysterious thing Sometimes it gives sometimes it takes and before she came into her own the mold was cast too young trapped time... bit by bit day by day a year turned into years time... a stealthy thief slowly surely shaping changing rearranging til she became unrecognized to even her own reflection ...barely a shadow there to bear resemblance to her spirit. And so ... she slumbered. sleeping

sleeping for so long ... how long have I been gone from myself...? Wake softly. so slight so faint yet unmistakeable in its intent slow burning spark of life ignites the passion for a life unlived but visited in dreams faint remembrance the feeling of living... excitement for a life as yet unlived left only for dreams fear of making wrong decisions but they are decisions nonetheless... a decision made and so she is alive no longer dead inside ... society's robot reality will not be silenced any longer this girl inside struggling to be free break loose

from her cocoon like the butterfly that she was meant to be... break loose from rigid confines concrete walls around her soul that she helped build.... and others all too willing to cement and reinforce crumbling... quickly.

The time has come and sleep will end a new life beckons gently

for now it is the moment of awakening

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