The Key

            Today lied to me. Oh, it told me the story of a lifetime with pauses, laughter to break silence, and stops causing me to keep going.  But then silence of words began to speak louder and sing words of no one’s want to be’s or forgotten truths.  They were lies hidden within proper sentence structures and painful reconstruction.  I didn’t know it to be a lie until it ended.  It ended with a question mark to question its reason to its meaning.  Gosh, today was a lie.  But it kept me believing in something powerful enough to keep reading into its desire of survival. 

            My life story shouldn’t be remembered as a lie, a story with less than happy endings to credit the last scene as names of the insignificant makeup artists and what’s her name’s cousin’s billing agent. It is funny how I look at it that way.  Some see it as a pawn to juggle.  As though every second can seem to be a lie of who we are or who we were designed to be.

            You owe me those 24 hours of painful relapse to cradle within my arms, to protect from wasting. You, man, owe me.  Remember that.  You owe me yesterday because all we have is the next day, a regret of forgotten past todays.  

           But what we do with this lie becomes the key.  When I die, I want the words,"I found the key" written boldly upon the tombstone. In all reality, I won't get those days, those seconds, minutes, pauses, or tears back to recapture.  I found the key.  The understanding that tomorrow holds no promise of a breath and believing that only One holds the Key to everything eternal.  Do you believe?