When can I rest my head again?
When can I just spend my time
Just leisurely being myself
Not fulfilling anyone’s expectations
Of what I should be doing
Of where I should be going
Of who I should be
I’ve felt this pressure from all accounts
The people and stigmatisms that surround me
I use to feel similar pressures about you
Overtly concerned about how you saw me
How your perception would see right through me
And that you would find out how ugly and imperfect I am
But oddly enough, the older we get
The less I care about others’ opinions
Because to invest energy in something so trivial
Is an endless and fruitless endeavor
Yet even so I occasionally do care
And on those occasions where I’m being drained
Of every last drop of my compassion and empathy
For conniving and manipulative ploys
The kind where you get sucked dry until you are jaded
I find my safe space wherever you lay
Away from all the chaos and nonsense
Away from those leeches that feed off sanity
I just imagine myself joining you for some pillow talk
A place I can tell you all my secrets
And know you’ll still want me around afterwards
Because you have secrets of your own
That I find you even more endearing for
A therapist asked me once to visualize a happy place
One where there is no animosity that lives longer than just a moment
Where I am comfortable
Where I’m accepted and welcomed
A place where I feel at home
You are my home.
It is place where imperfection is not rejected
Where desire for growth is not shamed but respected
Where mutual respect for being a human is granted
Sometimes being in your space and coming home is difficult
Sometimes all the good and warmth get challenged
By us being human and being passionate by nature
But then the good parts feel even better on the other side of those hard times
In those challenging times when we push each other away
All I want to do still and lay next to you
To feel your heart beating
To hear that rhythm remind me to keep my own beating too
How I am not living for myself alone now
You heartbeat reminds me my existence matters
When can I rest my head again
When can I go back home again
And allow myself to be wrapped up in the warmth I crave
I wish my home wasn’t always so far away.
©AyalaRain
To Make Your Day Sweet 