Tuesday, April 28, 2015

There are days where it all falls apart. There are weeks when there seems to be no end. There are months that feel like an eternity. 

Often times the world throws so many things at us. It forces on us the pains that can't be dulled by a pill or an ice pack. It brings to us the pains that can be healed by the magic of medicine. Life reaches into its bag of tricks and pulls out it all. All controversy. All opposition. All weakness. 

Today is one of those days. And I'm starting to wonder if maybe satan is real after all.

Do you know what I'm saying? Does it make any sense? That moment when the storm clears but the rain keeps on pouring. When the weight of your own feet makes it too hard to walk. Tied down by the cargo of everything from health to heart. The moments where your soul and your body cry out, screaming, "let me go"

Today is one of those days. And I'm starting to wonder if there is light at the end of the tunnel.

They wonder at you. They ask if you're doing okay, 'no I can't function' you think as you reply with smile "yes I'm fine." The smiles they help, the questions they hurt. And the pain in your side seems to scream in perfect rhythm. 

Today is one of those days. And I'm starting to wonder if I forgot how to breathe.

Saturday, April 25, 2015

Do you think that someone can ever really escape from the walls? Break through the four cement barricades that stand in the way of becoming the worlds greatest? Do you think that walls truly crumble? Or do they just pretend to. Maybe for a moment. Maybe for a year. Can impenetrable silos really come down? Or are we trapped. Caught between who we are and who they want us to be.

I'm afraid that the world cant truly ever know who we are. We're the secrets that shouldn't be told. We're the fruit that's never quite ripe. We're the ones picked last on the team. We are you. We are the children that choose never to grow up. We're that small boy flying from window seals, chasing our shadows. We're the ones you forgot. You can't underestimate the power of us.

Every person comes to this earth to make their own decisions. Some with strengths, others with weaknesses. Searching in the dark crevices of our minds we all try and find who we really are. But you can't shape someone else. No matter how many times you mold the clay of your heart, if you don't do it for you, the foundation will crack. Become who you were meant to be. Do it for you. Don't do it for them. We can't do it for them. We can't become who you need us to be. We can only become who we need us to be. We need to be free.

"Life is not about finding yourself, it's about creating yourself"

When i wake up tomorrow i will still be me. You will still be you. The whispers seeping through the landscape of our minds will still find us. Causing our very memories to quake in the rush of the wind. Will i ever find peace? Or am i stuck. Stuck being told where to go and how to write a story.

But never forget. It's my story. It's your story. 

Monday, April 20, 2015

There is a certain peculiar feeling when one is trying. Trying to laugh. Trying to smile. Trying to breathe. It comes suddenly like a wave that surprises an unprepared tourist.

I hear the sound of the melody playing far in the background. Someone searching for the right keys, grasping the ivories for how could they ever let go? Pleading with each black and white key, hoping to be carved perfectly like a fallen tree into a perfect beam. Searching for what is really meant to be.

The sun shines as i search for your face. It doesn't take long for me to find it. I see it everywhere. I see it in everyone. The stranger who opens the door. The actress who smiles and bites her lip. Your sweet sister who hugged me tight just like you used to. Your loving father who asked me how i am. Your touch is everywhere. Your eyes searching me out in the night. The tragedy is, that it's not you. When i see them i think of you. When i see them i find you. But you're lost just as fast.

"Come on skinny love just last the year."

Just last the year. Or maybe just last the day. "Keep your chin up" they say. "Don't forget to smile" they shout as i run out the door. "You'll be okay" they remind me. But the truth is, just because the sun rises, doesn't mean we do. Just because the sky brightens, doesn't mean we can. Just because you're okay, doesn't mean we are. Often you forget. Not all wounds heal.

Thursday, April 16, 2015

Sometimes I hear the chuckle of the wind. The sound as it slips between branches, causing them to creak and to moan. They're okay. The sky leans down and smiles and the sun softly kisses my cheek.

It's not so bad.

I wake in the shadow of the afternoon sun. Wearing sheets for my clothes as i roll out of bed. The teapot is whistling. I find your remnant in the kitchen, frying eggs the way i like them the most. Pouring a small glass of juice knowing that more must come. You kissed me good morning, if there was such a thing.

It's not so bad.

The cold floor is barren without you. The curtains stay closed, and the front door locked. There's a knock there this time, but it's not who i thought. Just a man from the city. I can't remember if i checked the mail yesterday. I did.

It's not so bad.

It's really not so bad. Not while i sleep. Not while i dream. The bad part is waking up. To find that half of the bed is still cold. The pillow left with no indent where your head would go. Sometimes i wonder if there will ever be an indent again.
So what do i do? "We fall asleep only in hopes of dreaming, that everything would be like it was before." So i sleep. Maybe for a day, maybe forever. The place where i feel safe. The place where i'm home. The place where the hole doesn't seem quite so big.

It's not so bad.

Monday, April 13, 2015

The wind shutters past the entrance to my heart. 
                         Unlocking the cage containing the password to the soul. 
                                                       Out seeps the stolen whisper, 

                                    "I'm yours..."

Thursday, April 9, 2015

How could anyone possibly understand? Unless it happens to you. Do not misunderstand me, it could happen to you. It could happen to anyone. But I hope it doesn't.

The search for gold ends with one swift swing of the sky, falling and turning. Blinding those who forgot that today was that day. Up, down, inside or out its all the same. The same four walls that control my thoughts. You can't find me here. I'm hidden in plain sight. Waiting. Hoping. Yearning.

The smell of the oven wakes me. I remember now. The touch of your hand and the joy of the smile. It's not the same. The colors have faded and the shadows are dark. With the whisper pressed silently underneath my tongue it escapes. You already knew. 

Within the corners of my very own brain the answer comes quick. There's only one thing to do when the monsters come out. If you don't hide they'll never stop looking. You'll be safe soon. But not yet. The clock still ticks and consumes the time left on my skin.

It could happen to anyone you know. But it didn't happen to anyone. It happened to me. Come find me, I beg.

Tuesday, April 7, 2015

The stars fall from the sky like a scream seeping through my teeth. The wind burns as it scorches the growing flames and I stand by. Watching and wondering as everything i thought I knew comes crashing down. Was it even mine to hold?

Sunday, April 5, 2015

This is not a love story.

As I walk to the door the smiles overwhelm me. Who could possibly find such a happy occasion?
The sound of a breaking heart rings in my ears. I look around. No one else can hear it. Like a river of freezing rain it soaks through my shirt. It seeps to my bones, solidifying the small drops left from an unmistakeable regret.

This is not a love song.

I lay down to sleep and find myself awake in a world that I couldn't possibly remember. The trees painted blue and the sky shining a nostalgic cream. It feels like home but looks like a story. The piano plays it self while I try to hum along. I lost the beat. I lost the answer. The sand feels warm between my toes while the water runs through my hair.

This is not a love poem.

I let go. As I longed to hold on tighter and tighter, I loosened my grip. I watched the fall. I felt the fall. In my organs, in my mind. I looked on as if it never happened. I tried to forget. But it did happen. It's still here. I'm still here. My heart is still here. As I stare into the cream colored sky, it beats again. For the first time in a long time. A sound comes out. Somewhere between pain and pleasure it cries for release. But it's too late. It's stopped again.

This is not a love story.