I take a breath and hold.
I tell myself,
“Pick up the pieces…
Because nobody else will.”
You’re not coming back.
And why would you?
Why would I expect you to walk backwards through this cold, storming heart?
It’s freezing rain,
I guess you could say I trust myself about as much as you do.
Trust, what a funny word, I think,
Because everybody wants it but nobody gives it.
We walk around demanding trust from each other,
But nobody really gives the benefit of the doubt to anyone else.
The ones that do end up cold and broken,
Singing sad songs in their cars on a drive going nowhere.
The thought of driving makes me dizzy now,
Because being able to feel something for the first time in months
Has made me not want to let go of the air lying still in my compressed lungs…
To feel the burning of desire for oxygen,
This internal battle reaching for the end,
Lungs squeezing tighter, suffocation…
Everything is so dark right now that it is beginning to look bright.
Funny how the lack of something you can’t live without makes you delusional.
When you’re so caught up in something that you could fix,
You forget how to fix it.
Like that my lungs know all I need to do is inhale,
But the lack of oxygen in my brain is confusing my entire body.
It almost feels good, being able to feel the pain.
Sometimes I think I deserve this…
This pain that is rushing through my veins at this very second.
Like it is my own fault,
And I feel I need to prove the capacity of my own breathing,
The ability to stop it if I want to.
And I know that if you have been following along,
You and I both need to breathe because your lungs are about to give up…
I finally exhale.
I take a large breath in,
And feel my heart rejoicing as blood pumps through rapidly,
My body’s way of thanking me for not ending it now…
Instantly, I’m crying.
Because I feel numb already.
Numbness is an interesting feeling,
Or lack thereof,
Because even though tears are leaving my eyes,
My nerves and emotions feel unsettlingly calm.
It feels like when I swim out far enough into the ocean that
The waves stop crashing on you and begin swaying underneath,
Moving you as you float on your back.
That moment of utter peace and confusion before a wave finally carries you back.
I’ve been floating out here for some time, now, though,
Waiting for my wave or my raft or even my shark,
To either save me or end me,
Because I am so sick of this emotionless limbo I am stuck in
Due to the fact that I have forgotten how to swim.
Out here, peaceful music plays,
And I forget about everything for a moment or a lifetime.
I think of all the things I have messed up.
But if there’s one thing I wish I could change,
It’s hurting you.
I’m feeling myself being slowly pulled back to shore,
By a figure who looks just like you…
Suddenly, I am remembering how to move my arms and legs,
You just stare at me, though,
You don’t try to help me and you don’t acknowledge my presence.
It seems as if you’ve been waiting to watch me drown.
I don’t have to wonder why you aren’t extending your hand for me.
I wouldn’t help me either.
Finally, a wave falls on top of me, spinning me in circles.
You seem so close, though,
Almost ready to pull me from this high tide.
Are you ready to pull me away from the ocean?
The magnificent burden, of a gentle touch
could it be I care too much?
could my actions lead to distractions,
and wind up backfiring on me?
I long for you as far as the eye can see,
but does my own vision deceive?
Am I blinded by lust and confused by love
or do my words mean nothing
because my actions mean everything?
The only thing we can hold true to us,
is sight, and sound and taste and touch.
But what happens when I’m just too much?
Am I what you bargained for,
or were you hoping for something more?
I have given bits and pieces of myself,
to everything I’ve ever loved
and taken back the same.
But what happens
when you end up forgetting
why exactly these pieces remain?
Parts of me, aren’t apart of me
and apart of me is missing.
Seems to me, what’s left
is just a puzzle with history.
So will you take me
in all of my glory, and sorrow, and despair
or will you throw away the security blanket
and tell me what I don’t want to hear?
Don’t tap-dance through my tragedy,
and try not to console my wounded soul.
Tell me what you feel and fear
and maybe, potentially,
you could fill this hole.
It fills my ears like liquid goal.
I take a breath to stop the need of unspoken remity.
The strokes of the lost voilen rythems the beats of my heart; the easy rhyme of the piano mocks my soul.
To not jump and leap would be to unfoster a child, an action that I take for granted.
My heart calls out for the music set before me.
The rythem takes me away, as I loose hope.
Easing my Pain and anger, I take it.
Dance. My mind tells me as I harness the music of a loss child.
Bowing, leaping, gliding.
Letting the fluid of the strokes take my body prisoner.
The world becomes a wirle of colors.
Fire. Water. Earth.
All dancing with perfect rythem with my soul and heart.
So beautiful, it makes a grown man cry.
Violen, Chelo, Piano.
All screaming at me to fly.
So I obey.
I feel so alone.
And I wish you were here.
It's very cold and very dark
And all I really want
is to hold something warm
that will hold me in return
With stolen kisses and meaningful glances.
I can't help but feel like the older you get,
the less material you want, and you find that the
things you truly want for Christmas
cannot be bought in a store.
Welcome to my magic show
Where only the brave dare to go;
Beyond the depths of reality
Hidden under lock and key.
There's not rabbit in a hat, no graceful dove,
Just an angel with broken wings, fallen from above.
There's no illusion, no trick of scorn;
Only a lonely girl, tattered and torn
Welcome to the freakshow, look through the glass.
She cowers in fear, gazing at the points and laughs.
They mock, they tease,
They bring her to her knees.
With a desperate plea she lifts her eyes
And everyone sees she's a devil in disguise.
The confusion is evident on every face
This girl has a side that caused her to fall from grace.
Assumptions are made, a decision reached
Everyone with an opinion they morbidly preached
The girl lifts her hands in absolute fear
And in a flash of smoke she disappeared.
I hope you enjoyed the show
Where she went, you may never know.
I am afraid.
I am afraid because I am here
And I want to walk away
But instead I am right here.
I sit here.
Do I sit here?
I think I'm doing it
Just to see how long I can.
It's like holding your fingers over a burning candle
To see how long you can stand the heat
Before your skin blisters
And you pull away, defeated.
I sit still.
I always sit still when it hurts.
I think stillness
Started a few years ago.
When I first hit the ground
I was afraid to breathe.
It was like I had been dropped from a high bridge onto a concrete sidewalk
And I knew
Knew beyond any doubt
That things were broken.
Things inside were very very broken.
Things were splintered and punctured,
And if I moved, even to draw a breath,
I would bleed out right there.
I think that's when the stillness started.
And now whenever I am hurt
Whenever something hits me
I go still as stone
Except for shaking hands
That flutter, fragile and white, until I clasp them tight together.
The world moves around me
But I stay still as death
Not even daring to breathe
As if I will be found
As if I will tear apart into a million shreds of wasted paper
And drift to the floor.
I stay so still my muscles ache.
I never cry.
I can't cry.
I just sit there and feel how peculiar the sense of damage is.
How odd it is to be full of explosions and debris whipping around inside
An utterly motionless body.
And part of me, even as I feel
With how much I know I'd die if my body betrayed my anguish in real injury
Part of me looks on from above,
With a detached analysis
Of this and that
Of just where I feel this blow
And this stabbing pain,
Of just how each moment changes me.
I freeze like ice outside
And burn like hell inside.
It is the most curious sensation in the world
And I hate it so much I would die to escape it.
And yet when it comes upon me
I do nothing
Nothing at all.
I say nothing.
I turn to stone, part by part,
Like I'm being submerged in drying cement
And finally my lungs
The top of my head
Until all that is left
Are my eyes
I am paralyzed
And I look out on a world in motion
Moments before I was a part of the rhythm like a heartbeat
But that was moments ago,
And we all know how much can change in just a moment.
When I am stone
You can come at me with a chisel
And I will say nothing.
Bang bang bang
And little chunks come off
A shard of my cheek
A finger at the joint
The swell of my collarbone,
They crumble when struck
But I can't move an inch.
I sit still.
I always sit still.
My stillness is the waiting.
It is the wish
It is the craving
Hot and metallic
To do something
To slice away how much I hate my own helplessness.
It is knowing that there is a relief
Besides just being saved.
There is a way to save myself
From this chaos inside
A way to feel better
My stillness is the resistance
The longing and the "No, I can't."
The firm denial
Cold as ice
Hard as granite.
Is it strong to let the world dismantle you by the inch
When you know you could get there first?
Is it strong to sit and take take take
And do nothing whatsoever?
Is a statue strong
Or is it just
Underdog sitting in a Main Street bar
Fading star on his arm
But no cause for alarm
He's made his bed
Left his head on some old dirty couch
In the end if he wins
He'll let us know what it's all about.
Changing moons are bittersweet
He sits there
Can't even eat
But the brew
Goes down good
And the brew tells him he should:
Count his teeth cause some are missing,
Sing some songs cause no ones listening
Run the streets and see the city.
So he does.
Underdog's doing what an underdog does.