The Climb

I've dug myself a monstrous hole,

Out of which I cannot climb.

The deeper I go, the darker my soul,

I fear I haven't much time. 

The light is moving further away,

As I reach my hands in vain.

I kick and scream for some delay,

But I'm met with only pain.

Void of hope, I fall to my knees,

And touch my hands to pray.

Desperate to put my mind at ease,

To whom, I know not, I say:

I've lived my life as best I could, kind to those I've crossed.

Saving animals as Irwin would, no matter the risk (or cost).

I hope when people think of me, they remember only the best.

If only but a smiling Bri, as bright as lemon zest.

My love for you will never fade, wherever this journey ends.

There's nothing I would ever trade, in place of family and friends.

The light above is all but gone, I've used up all my time.

Someday soon will come the dawn, and out of this hole I'll climb.

Out of this hole I'll climb.

(b.m.)

Purpose

Hi all you lovely Moths,

It's been a whirlwind over the past few months to say the least. The number of posts I make is a direct reflection of that! So I say with the utmost uncertainty: I am back (for now). The seasonal change that has undergone within the previous weeks has altered the nature of my thoughts and have bred some pieces of work with an obvious dark undertone. Thus, this post will continue the pattern as we move into the winter months, but fear not, the colder days will cease come springtime, and so shall my lighter thoughts.

Onto the anticipated topic of the day: the meaning of life. 

*internal shudder*

Side note: No, I'm not referencing the Monty Python farce (although if you haven't seen it, stop reading right now and go watch, it is truly an outrageously ridiculous masterpiece not meant for the feign of heart).

Now that we've settled that...

One of the most existential questions ever asked since the beginning of time is why are we here? I certainly find myself wondering this very question on various occasions. Of course it's not something we as humans could ever possibly answer, but we can definitely give our best educated (or more so opinionated) guesses to give us some ounce of purpose, otherwise what would keep us going every day? The biggest and baddest in the philosophical world have taken a gander at their thoughts on this heavy topic. Arguably one of the most well known philosopher, Socrates, said, "the unexamined life in not worth living." To him, the most important thing in life is to continuously seek out new knowledge. He used the term "eudaimonia" which meant something along the lines of an ultimate happiness or healthy spiritual state.

Another popular thought is that the meaning of life is to serve, or care for, others around you. The Dalai Lama is one of the prime supporters of this notion, saying "our prime purpose in this life is to help others, and if you can't help them, at least don't hurt them." Just take a minute to imagine if every single person on this planet had this state of mind. Imagine how much peace there would be if we simply loved our neighbors and put all prejudices aside. Of course, that's just a fantasy because of the existence of something called human emotions, such as jealousy or greed. But hey, a girl can dream.

I know you're all dying to know what my stance is on this fun little subject. I can say that the previously mentioned opinions play a part, and I do agree that it is important to seek knowledge and care for those around you, but that's not the whole picture for me. What these fail to acknowledge is the idea that the meaning of life has something to do with our after lives. As I mentioned before, there is absolutely no way we can ever truly know until we die (at which time I am expecting to be thoroughly enlightened) so take this with a grain of salt. The introverted "old soul" that I am thinks way too deeply into topics such as this, and I am sorely convinced that there was a mistake made somewhere in the cosmic universe in relation to the era in which I was born (I would have preferred somewhere a little closer to the pre-modern age consisting of the most renowned poets and philosophers alike, but beggars can't be choosers I suppose).

Anyway...my popular opinion is this: the purpose to life is somewhere along the line of a test of the purity, or nature, of your soul. I want to believe that everyone is essentially pure at heart, meaning their souls are inherently good and they've just simply been corrupted on the outside by their environment, but the pessimist in me just doesn't accept that. Everyone is entitled to their own opinions about what happens when you die or where you go, and personally I do--or at least reeeeally want to--believe that there is a higher power that we'll answer to. Think of it this way: life after death is an eternity, and actual life is only ~roughly~ somewhere in the span of 90 or so years, which is a BLINK in respect to eternity, so there must be some immense importance to those short years.

Take education as an example. The four short years spent in high school act not only as a beacon for learning, but also as a baseline for your level of knowledge going into your college years. High school goes by with the snap of your fingers, yet it has a heavy weight of importance on how you will spend the next few years of your life. Furthermore, how well you do in your college years sets you up for ~literally~ the rest of your life moving forward. It seems crazy that your biggest decisions are asked of you during your adolescence when you don't know much else...............but it is what it is.

To sum all that jargon, the few short years of your educational experience act as a test, and depending on how well you do during those years, your life moving forward will be as difficult or smooth as you make it. In respects to the meaning of life, your life to what happens after you die is what your educational years are to your post-schooling life. If you live your life as best you can, being kind to others, helping those in need, appreciating the beauty in everything, then eternity will be just as kind to you. Life may seem impossibly hard and deteriorating at times, as though it's sucking the very marrow out of your spirit, but it'll all be but a distant memory when you find yourself in an eternal state of peace. It's then that everything you've gone through and survived will be worth it, and you'll appreciate every single struggle.

That, my moths, is MY meaning of life, what's yours? xo

Found

It's when I stopped searching that I found exactly what it was I had been looking for.

Let it come to you, moths.

(b.m.)

Revenge

In the shadows there lurks a soul, 

Whose loneliness has taken its toll.

All she knows are cries and moans,

An empty shell of skin and bones.

She's stranded to the dark of night,

 Left with creatures of ghoul and fright.

Her heart's been sent through the guillotine,

And she's seeking revenge this Halloween.

(b.m.)

My God, I Pray

As the days grow shorter, and the nights colder;

there is something coming near.

As if my soul knows, an anxiousness grows;

'waken is a chilling fear.

The leaves begin to fall, and birds cease to call;

a darkness consumes the land.

Tired are my eyes, as loneliness arrives;

the silence I cannot stand.

Passed are the days, of warmth and rays;

in charge is now the moon.

But when she's gone, the monsters are drawn;

left empty are bodies strewn.

My mind is being lost, its price too high a cost;

heavy do thoughts of you weigh.

Betrayed was my heart, though it knew from the start;

never do loved ones stay.

Buried are words unsaid, fated as those now dead;

regret is the devil's delight.

 Before I die I hope to confess, the feelings I so cruelly suppress;

my God I pray to survive the night.

My God, I pray.

(b.m.)

Puzzle Pieces

It's three in the morning. The moonlight dances through the bathroom window, illuminating a tear-stained face through the darkness. Between the sobs sings a chorus of crickets and the bone-chilling "creeeek" of trees bellowing in the wind. I rest on my knees, and the chilled, ivory-colored tile kisses my skin, sending chills throughout my body. My destructive thoughts guided me here from the comfort of my bed like an insect beckoned to a light, and I am reduced to a hunched over figure on a cold bathroom floor.

I wrack my brain, blindly searching for answers among the sea of negativity being spewed from my consciousness. It turns a cold shoulder, and to no avail I am left hopelessly seeking guidance. A calming of the storm inside my head. And so I try my luck with a higher power. I plead to God, whispering my woes into the night. I say, with utter desperation, "God, please, help me to understand my purpose for this life. I feel that I have strayed from the path I once was on, and fear I have lost sight of where it is I should be heading. I feel as though I am now wandering, weakened and alone, through a maze with which there is no exit. One in which I've reached yet another dead end. Help me to understand..."

Moments later, an autumn breeze creeps through the slightly cracked window, and with it, carries in a soothing voice that caresses my ears. It says, softly, "My child, you wish to reach the finish line when you've barely just begun the race. Put simply, life is like a puzzle: as you learn, grow, and experience new aspects of life, you will collect pieces of yourself along the way. By themselves, these pieces are insignificant, failing to shed light on what it is you're looking to find. Slowly, but surely, they start to come together, piece-by-piece. By the end of your life, you will have a moment where you'll have the final piece, the one that fits just right, filling the last empty space. It's then that you will see it. You will see that every single moment of your life has created just that: a life. Every decision you make will guide you to where you wish to go, and so you are never truly lost...only on your way to discovering the next puzzle piece. You simply need the courage, and the patience, to finish it."

Just as it had traveled in, the voice faded away with the breeze, surely off to console some other sad soul praying for an answer to their own questions. A sudden stillness washed over me as I left the numbing tile and climbed back into the warmth of my bed. For the first time in as far back as I can remember, I am lulled into a peaceful sleep, comforted with the belief of surviving the day to come, and every one to follow.

Someday I will complete the puzzle...

Someday.

(b.m.)

Twenty Two Years

Twenty two years I have lived.

I have grown. 

Have felt. 

Twenty two years I have not found love, 

I have not received love,

Have not made love.

Twenty two years my heart has waited.

My heart has ached.

Has yearned.

Twenty two years of being polite.

Of being supportive.

Being patient.

Twenty two years of suppressed words.

Of suppressed feelings.

Suppressed desires.

Twenty two years without your eyes on mine.

Without your hands on mine.

Your lips on mine.

What will the next twenty two bring?

(b.m.)

Within

When we were little, 

we feared the monsters
hiding beneath our beds, 

keeping our feet tucked in
so they couldn't drag us under.

Now, 

it's not the monsters
under the bed we fear 

when staring into the
darkness...

It's the ones inside of us.

.

.

.

How do we protect ourselves
from them?

(b.m.)

Which?

Which is worse?

Never to have loved,

or

Never to have b

                              e

                                   e

                                                     n loved?

Which is worse?

A hollow heart,

or

A f

       o

         r

             s 

               a

                  k

                     e

                                      n heart?

(b.m.)

Poem for Mom

How can I put into words,

How much you mean to me?

What is flight to soaring birds,

Or pollen to a bee?

Like the golden rays of the sun,

Your radiant spirit glows.

Compared to you, there is none;

With every smile it shows.

You always give with all your heart,

And take care of those around you.

Not to mention you're incredibly smart;

Such a powerful woman to look up to.

Like a mirror after a hot shower,

It's sometimes hard to see.

Much like a bee feels for a flower;

You mean so much to me.

(b.m.)