Bones
Fragile and delicate
Skin
Cold and pale
Sunlight
Will I see the sun?
Bones
Weighted and weak
Skin
Tighter and raw
Goal
Will this be enough?
Bones
Dusty and limp
Skin
Pealing and opaque
Finish
Am I finished yet?

It’s there when you find yourself in panic, wandering alone in the middle of the night for a glass of water.
It’s there when you find yourself facing your living room, silent and dark.
It’s looking back to you, as you quickly run up the steps and close your bedroom door in fear that it will follow you.
It’s there when you’re laying in bed and a feeling of regret comes within. The feeling gathered from all of your misfortunes in life and you wondering why you feel this way.
You wondering why you feel so helpless, a sour feeling in the pit of your chest.
You wondering why no one else can see the struggle you bring when you face others.
You worrying yourself over one life, your life, in which brings you to tears and the world feels as if it is closing in on you.
It’s in the darkest corner of your bedroom.
A cloud of dark horror that you cannot distinguish.
You believe it to be a black hallucination as the cloud nauseates in its place.
It’s there in your classroom.
A dull, lifeless thought fighting its way into the back of your mind.
It’s hovering over you, as you contemplate whether or not you should speak.
Whether or not you should gather your things, stand up, and get out.
It’s there for you when you get out.
It’s there for you when the pressure in your chest is aching so heavily and the noises downstairs don’t seem to quiet down.
It’s there when the voices from the outside are not enough to overpower the voices in your mind telling you to listen to them tell you that you will need to cover your eyes and not pay attention to it.
It’s there for you when you need to swallow away the voices in your mind so you can focus on their voices rather than listen to your own.
It’s there for you when you swallow away the voices in which they told you to avoid.
It’s watching you as you lay your head on your pillow and shift your head to meet it directly.
It’s watching you as you watch their faces appear in confusion and guilt, as all the timing in your world comes to a close.
It’s watching you shut your eyes.
It’s watching you, but you wouldn’t know.

couldn't things have been different.
If there were a way to go back, I would.
Why
can't I see the things I used to see
when I could smile and know
there wasn't that thing, the ink, the glare.
Why
did it pull me backwards,
but somehow I've furthered.
Why
has all good changed,
yet I am to wonder if this is for the better.
Why
am I hooked onto those days.
Then Why
do I feel no remorse from the past?

But only if there is man so strong, he could force bones to crack.

A play on words is emotional abuse, but only if that abuse develops a series of mental illnesses.

A life so improper is a blunder of the human mind, but only if that mind leads the human into insanity.

A heart can only grasp onto so much, but only if that so much is punctured with threats.

A universal gathering
A coincidence merging
A harvest

The alignment of stars
The planets collision
The evolution

An arrangement of spectacles
An orchestration for humanity
An embodiment

A harvest of sentiment
The evolution for mankind
An embodiment of association

watch the gardeners cut their vines
watch the sea men pull their sails
watch the child go and hide
watch the mailman come outside

listen to the leaves drifting away
listen to the water of the waves
listen to the child cry in fear
listen to the mailman ring the bell

feel the weather change in season
feel the concrete scrape through skin
feel the hands upon the shoulders
feel the thrill in the atmosphere

think that there is no return
hint that there is one more ring
look to see those who return
and guess which child will be freed

i killed the things i miss the most
my passions
my children
my mind

i opened a box i regret the most
my troubles
my divorce
my addiction

i haven’t remembered the last time i worried
the tears in my children’s eyes
the fire spreading upon their clothing

i haven’t remembered the last time i cried
my husband running away
my house in foreclosure

i haven’t remembered the last time i kneeled
to the one who stands above me
to the one seeking my soul