My Metal Heart

My heart aches for what once was

though I wouldn’t change a thing about today

the longing is still there, a remnant of days gone by

and I can’t help but wonder…

There was a time of freedom and not much responsibility

when all that mattered was the music

we lived and breathed the music ~ it was a lifestyle

There was the excitement of youth

when each day was brand new and anything could happen

The spontaneity and hope; starry eyes and puppy love, and what we thought was real love

Days were something to endure while we waited for the night to come

That’s when the magick happened:  our hearts free to explore; an open book 

waiting to be written;

attractions so magnetic – highly charged and bittersweet

because somehow, we knew this couldn’t last

Life happens.  

Like going to sleep and waking up in a different world

What we call maturity is somehow a gain and a loss all at once;

you can get disoriented along the way

Society telling us we should look like this, live like that, own this, pray for that

Frustration mounts, comes to a head

and we suddenly know what we must do

what matters

A plan forms in the very depths of our hearts

because there are still those among us who have stayed true to theirs

an inspiration greater than all

waiting in the wings to be wholly and completely embraced once again

by the metal hearts who have decided ~ it’s high time.

If you are living a lie, then you are wasting time because you are merely a shell

of what you should truly be

Because what really matters is what is in your heart

and to that you must stay true

 

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Little Square House

cottage

I once lived in a little square house.  Downstairs it had a kitchen, dining room, and living room.  Upstairs, a bathroom and bedroom with a makeshift closet along the hallway that connected the two rooms.  It was sturdy and brick.  When I had the shingles replaced on the roof, the carpenters exclaimed over the hardness of the oak boards underneath.  I replaced the old “shutter style” windows with new, vinyl windows and had one opening done in all glass block.  No more snow getting in on the inside like it used to!  So this house was nothing fancy, but I kept it clean and cute.  

The yard was nice and big with trees and a half circle drive.  The back yard led down into the woods where a trail opened up to a large, fast-flowing stream.  If you followed the stream up, you would find yourself in a graveyard.  This led to much speculation on my part as to whether the stream itself could be haunted (haha) ~ just par for the course of my wild imagination.  But it was a pretty setting.

This little square house was old.  I imagined that it could have been the carriage house for a much larger and grander house that stood down the road.  At one time, in the past.  Maybe.  Either way it was a pretty place even though it was small and old.  It was the first house I ever owned, and since I was only in my early 20’s, I was pretty proud of myself.

So it was with some dismay when I heard a guy I was dating describe my house to others as, “she lives in this BOX….” said with a mild hint of disgust…as if I was living in a cardboard box under a bridge or something.  In fact, he lived in what can only be described as a “U” – which was actually a small, generic-looking, U shaped apartment in a building with lots of other U shaped apartments.  So okay, I may have lived in a square and he in a U, but you didn’t hear ME knocking his U!  In fact, I’d never have thought to do so.    

But I always remembered him saying that, and the look on his face, and it made me feel insecure and self-conscience about my little square house.  It shouldn’t have, but it did.  I wondered if, since he felt that way, is that what others thought, too?  Should I have cared?  No!  But at that age, I did very much care what others thought.  In fact, this was just one of several places I lived that was good for me, but that other people I knew criticized.  What’s funny is that the people who usually criticized me didn’t really have any room to talk.  They weren’t doing any better or more fabulously than me!  It shouldn’t have bothered me.  

Eventually I moved, as I always knew I would, and I sold the house after a few years.  When I think of it, that little square house reminds me of some of the tiny houses that are so popular now.  It wasn’t exactly that small, though, but it really was super efficient and a perfect place for me at the time.  I don’t have an actual picture of the house – the image is from google but hopefully will give you the gist.  The actual house was a little bigger and had windows on the second floor with dormers.  But that’s the general idea.  The house is still in my family.  I sold it to my dad who rents it out.