Turning Flips

Life's kinda like that, huh... Seemingly pulled in all directions, turning flips to make every end meet. Exhausting yourself over what you may not change. Cursing yourself over every sacrifice you make to complete the whole... How I long for the simplicity of childhood, the innocence of a sunrise and late summer humidity. Not the looming thoughts of another day to live through with minor catastrophes and another season soon to end. To freely think that I am the only one. How can a mother lose herself, keep herself, save herself yet damn herself in the space of a thought? How can a woman be starved, be fed, be armored yet nude through said thoughts? How is this accomplished? How can we look through our jaded eyes and see the absolute perfect flaws of life? Men sometimes call our foresight a gift, yet we curse it as our heart and soul get wrapped and warped around an idea or notion. Our very being bleeds through each step, marking the universe with the stained footprints of our painful thoughts. Invisible to all but ourselves, yet especially void to ourselves. How can we step through life with the knowledge that we will be used, broken, hurt and tortured? This question is an easy one to answer. It is because of the simple and pure love of a child. This love has the ability to muffle the scream of our thoughts, to redirect our most negative decisions, and most importantly, to gently cleanse our footprints from the universe; but hold our footprints in their souls. Tread lightly...as the tears of a heartbroken child are most difficult to cleanse...