End of an era... Or a world...

Well, tomorrow the world ends.  That has never really been a problem for me.  I say, “Finally!  Bring it on!”  Because as I have discussed, suicide is not the answer for me, but I’ve always thought a timely, truly accidental death would suit me just fine.  It would get me out of here.  So if tomorrow is the end of the world, I’m ok with that.  But as I was thinking about that tonight, I realized that I’m also ok if tomorrow isn’t the end of the world.  And that is unusual thinking for me.  After the year (year and a few months, really)I’ve had –the year from hell-, my hope is finally starting to trail back in.  I’m more somber.  I might even go so far as to say I’m a little less fun.  But I’m a better me.  A more grounded, hopeful me.  A me who isn’t completely terrified of the future.  And so I say, “Bring it on, Mayans.  Either way is fine by me.”

Hiding

I've been thinking a lot about love lately.  The romantic kind.  I think it's something I want in my life.  But I'm terrified.  So I wrote a poem about it.  It's called "Hiding."

I'm hiding.
I've always been the best at hide and seek.
Always better at hiding than seeking.
I'm good at it.
But I think I want to be found now.
I think I'm done playing.
But I'm scared.
I might not know what to do with found.
I might even hide again.
Deep in here in my darkest corners.
Hiding where I shouldn't be.
Hiding when I shouldn't be.
Hiding in plain sight.
Staying hidden long after everyone gives up the seek.
Can you come find me?
Please?