The meaning of Sarah does not lie in the literal meaning of the name.
Instead, it resides in sun soaked meadows in September, the taste of wild strawberries and the color red. It lingers in her fractured poetry, her overly opinionated voice, her lack of boundaries. It ripens in the pools of her eyes, in her belief in the mythological.
The meaning of Sarah does not exist within the perimeters created by others.
It flies beyond the borders, open arms to embrace the earth and a heart scarred, but willing to love.
Its like standing outside of my body and watching myself. Like I don't actually belong inside of me, but I'm still a part of ME.
I have no name.
"Sarah" is too ethereal to belong to me. "Sarah" is too beautiful to belong to me. "Sarah" is autumn and blood red leaves and fields of strawberries growing wild in the sun. "Sarah" is memories that have lost their meanings. "Sarah" is hollow, but "Sarah" is full.
The meaning of Sarah is not in the name.
What is in a name? Does it belong to any part of one's body? Or does it lie at the soul?
Sarah does not have a name. Sarah does not exist. Sarah is fractured poetry and the bumper stickers of would-be presidents. She's an equal rights rally. She's equal parts Marilyn Monroe and Edgar Allan Poe. She's a love of the wild and spirit. She is obsession.
The meaning of Sarah lies in her inability to let her conscience be silenced.
The meaning of Sarah is directly proportionate to the meaning of Donnie. And the meaning of atoms and stars in rotation. And the meaning of love. And the meaning of choosing who and what you will be.
The meaning of Sarah gets lost in the shuffle, because even Sarah doesn't know the meaning. There is no dictionary to explain one's self to one's self.
The meaning of Sarah is something brilliant. Something waiting to be born, that's afraid to be born.
The meaning of Sarah has been lost in translation and translation after translation.
The meaning of Sarah is like a holy book. Abused by those who want to make it their own. Pages torn out, meanings lost. But still there.
The meaning of Sarah is not the body that houses her. It is not the body that houses me that makes me. It is the person inside of me, inside of her, that doesn't know who she is, but is willing to try.
The meaning of Sarah is flying, despite the obstacles.
The meaning of Sarah is fighting, despite all the tearing down.
The meaning of Sarah is finding yourself inside the pages of a beloved book, the words jumping off the page embracing you like long lost lovers.
The meaning of Sarah cannot be found in a dictionary, because she is more than words on a page. She is more than the loves and the hates and the cruelties and the bad memories and the bad dreams and the dreams that never came true. She is more than strawberries growing in a field.
The meaning of Sarah does not lie in the literal meaning of the name, but in her willingness to grow in spite of the tearing down of her hope.
Instead, it resides in sun soaked meadows in September, the taste of wild strawberries and the color red. It lingers in her fractured poetry, her overly opinionated voice, her lack of boundaries. It ripens in the pools of her eyes, in her belief in the mythological.
The meaning of Sarah does not exist within the perimeters created by others.
It flies beyond the borders, open arms to embrace the earth and a heart scarred, but willing to love.
Its like standing outside of my body and watching myself. Like I don't actually belong inside of me, but I'm still a part of ME.
I have no name.
"Sarah" is too ethereal to belong to me. "Sarah" is too beautiful to belong to me. "Sarah" is autumn and blood red leaves and fields of strawberries growing wild in the sun. "Sarah" is memories that have lost their meanings. "Sarah" is hollow, but "Sarah" is full.
The meaning of Sarah is not in the name.
What is in a name? Does it belong to any part of one's body? Or does it lie at the soul?
Sarah does not have a name. Sarah does not exist. Sarah is fractured poetry and the bumper stickers of would-be presidents. She's an equal rights rally. She's equal parts Marilyn Monroe and Edgar Allan Poe. She's a love of the wild and spirit. She is obsession.
The meaning of Sarah lies in her inability to let her conscience be silenced.
The meaning of Sarah is directly proportionate to the meaning of Donnie. And the meaning of atoms and stars in rotation. And the meaning of love. And the meaning of choosing who and what you will be.
The meaning of Sarah gets lost in the shuffle, because even Sarah doesn't know the meaning. There is no dictionary to explain one's self to one's self.
The meaning of Sarah is something brilliant. Something waiting to be born, that's afraid to be born.
The meaning of Sarah has been lost in translation and translation after translation.
The meaning of Sarah is like a holy book. Abused by those who want to make it their own. Pages torn out, meanings lost. But still there.
The meaning of Sarah is not the body that houses her. It is not the body that houses me that makes me. It is the person inside of me, inside of her, that doesn't know who she is, but is willing to try.
The meaning of Sarah is flying, despite the obstacles.
The meaning of Sarah is fighting, despite all the tearing down.
The meaning of Sarah is finding yourself inside the pages of a beloved book, the words jumping off the page embracing you like long lost lovers.
The meaning of Sarah cannot be found in a dictionary, because she is more than words on a page. She is more than the loves and the hates and the cruelties and the bad memories and the bad dreams and the dreams that never came true. She is more than strawberries growing in a field.
The meaning of Sarah does not lie in the literal meaning of the name, but in her willingness to grow in spite of the tearing down of her hope.
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