A grey room with soft walls is waiting down the road.
Purple pills and quiet voices will ease my  heavy load.
They'll place electrodes on my head to shock away the pain.
Then I'll sit drooling as I stare at the morning rain.

Maybe a friend will visit and stare with wide unblinking eyes.
They'll speak cautiously and try to fill me with empty lies.
Even with my drug addled mind will see  through their mask.
There are questions visible on their tongue they refuse to ask.

The stern nurses in their funny hats take us out in the sun.
The sudden warmth and bright light jolt us like a firing gun.
We must stay in line and only speak when we're spoken to.
When one is barely conscious that's an easy thing to do.

I'm back in my locked room starting to fade off to sleep.
I wonder if God can hear my prayers under layers so deep
Please come and save your creation from this destiny.
Sprinkle your magical dust and set this tormented soul free.

I promised myself that was the last poem about you.
But,
I've always been one of those people who
plays the same song on repeat
until it syncs with my heartbeat
and rattles my bones to dust.
or who
re-reads the same books until
the lines become my holy scripture,
the plot become my genesis and
my body becomes a canvas for a script I know by heart.
My head is filled with drafts for poems I've never written,
and hands I've never held.
I should blame it on courage but I blame it on you instead.
Maybe I'm just one of those people who
gives everything to one boy, forever.
Maybe he's just my routine,
like in the military.
Bright and early awake then straight to the battle field.
My body is adorned with marbled bruises
and crimson gunshot wounds
and when I rest for the night,
I'm shackled to a mattress of stone,
stained in the thick wine that pulses through my veins,
until the next morning,
when I must do it again.
The sunrise is my enemy.
She tugs at my eyelids
with raw fingernails each new day,
and I still fall asleep with
you as the only thing on my mind.

They say that you can't quit the army.
The cowards way out of a few wounds.
"Stay and it'll be a lifetime of glory".
And that's what he promises me.

Sometimes
when I'm lying awake at night
on an air mattress of a pull out couch
not sleeping because of the weight
of why i'm here in the first place.
I cry.

the tears stream directly onto the pillow
pulling off old remnants of eyeliner
and mascara
Dirtying the pillow

I cry because
I am alone

alone

alone fearing the darkness
what it brings
and if it will find me
the darkness
I spent so much of my life in...

The darkness I fought so hard
                                                       To get away from...

And I'm still fighting

What if every little thought
That lives inside your head
Instead of hiding away in there
Was spoken out, was said?

Would you be embarrassed?
Would you hate your mouth?
Would you rather be mute
Than let the truth come out?

What if every little thing
That people thought of you
Instead of being tucked away
Was heard, was listened to?

Would you be ashamed?
Would you cover your ears?
Would you rather be deaf
Than let the truth come near?

And what if every image
That passes through your thoughts
Was freed from its prison
To roam until it rots?

Would you be disgusted?
Would you look away?
Would you rather be blind
Than see your thoughts at play?

What if I just pretend none of this is happening.
I'll pretend that Dylan is just out in the living room playing video games.
That Sophie is staying in my bed.
And my bed doesn't have to move.
I never met Dan and he never lied to me so I can't be hurt.
Everything is normal.
The way it used to be.
It's easy and simple and nice and safe.
I'm not alone.
What if no one can hurt me.