LJ Idol- Week 6- topic was Ghosts
I see her from time to time.
Following me. Showing up when I doubt myself, when I most want to be left alone. She’s got big brown eyes, always looking at me questioningly.
I’m haunted by this girl, the girl I once was.
The girl who could be anything and was going to be a doctor. Who wants to know why I’m not there. She asks me from the reflection in the computer screen as I work on a paper or online homework.
The girl who would climb the tallest tree she could get into from a low limb. Who wasn’t afraid of falling, because it was unthinkable that her grip would slip. She stared me down in a reflection in a window, as I was having a panic attack on the ledge of the Vulcan in Birmingham, AL.
She stares at me every time I see my reflection. Those eyes always questioning me. Why haven’t I done this? Why do I keep doing that?
But she also shows up at times I need her. To tell me that I can do this, I’m not afraid of moving forward, of putting one foot in front of the other. Telling me that I can handle being stern when my job requires it. Telling me that I can give a pre-lab lecture to a room full of eighteen year olds and not fall on my face.
My personal ghost haunts me, pushes me, and encourages me. And even though I’ve decided to not be a doctor, she still pushes me to become something, to change the world in a different way.
Following me. Showing up when I doubt myself, when I most want to be left alone. She’s got big brown eyes, always looking at me questioningly.
I’m haunted by this girl, the girl I once was.
The girl who could be anything and was going to be a doctor. Who wants to know why I’m not there. She asks me from the reflection in the computer screen as I work on a paper or online homework.
The girl who would climb the tallest tree she could get into from a low limb. Who wasn’t afraid of falling, because it was unthinkable that her grip would slip. She stared me down in a reflection in a window, as I was having a panic attack on the ledge of the Vulcan in Birmingham, AL.
She stares at me every time I see my reflection. Those eyes always questioning me. Why haven’t I done this? Why do I keep doing that?
But she also shows up at times I need her. To tell me that I can do this, I’m not afraid of moving forward, of putting one foot in front of the other. Telling me that I can handle being stern when my job requires it. Telling me that I can give a pre-lab lecture to a room full of eighteen year olds and not fall on my face.
My personal ghost haunts me, pushes me, and encourages me. And even though I’ve decided to not be a doctor, she still pushes me to become something, to change the world in a different way.