I was afraid of the storm and the power it possessed
I thought it was rude and angry
It was a large man thundering out vicious words like rain
I watched as veins flashed across his face like lightening
I would lay terrified in bed as he lit up my room and darkened my skies
He would turn off all the lights if my attention was divided
Forcing me to listen to his every word
To absorb them like rain on the dry earth
As I grew fear turned to awe
Instead of hiding, I sat outside and watched the beauty unfold
As the Earth came alive and I watched clouds fight like children in the sky
They tossed and turned, dodged and tumbled over each other
But when the booming, motherly, voice of reason could not reign them in
Her hands would flash out like lightenings to separate them
She opened the skies like floodgates
The clouds dropped their faces to the Earth as muttered apologies poured from them like rain
As awe turned to jealousy, I knew I was wrong before
The storm was like me and had a story to tell
Unlike me the storm was brave enough to say it and strong enough to make you listen
I wanted to make the world hear me
But no matter how I tried, how I screamed, the world shut me out
So I used the storm
I wrote my story and sent it to the moon
And the thunder tells my story for me.
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 3:27 PM UTC
I can't shake the feeling
that relief will come
if my wrists bleed the tears
that my eyes cannot shed.
Relief that I want but can't bring myself to take.
Oct 28, 2013
Oct 28, 2013 at 9:13 PM UTC
I was 4 years old when I walked into school with my over-sized backpack and a smile to match
I didn't notice that I was different
I didn't feel different
The other kids refused to share in my oblivion and I felt like the freak you said I was
I couldn't go outside because I would get questioned, mocked and stared at
I was forced to defend my family tree with every turn
At an age where we are the most accepting
In a grade where we are the least like to judge
I was ostracized and mocked
I would beg my mom to tell me I was adopted
Because then I would have something to tell them
Maybe then they would stop
But I wasn't adopted. I was “special”, a “miracle”
One day she slipped up and called me an “unexpected gift” and I knew it was a lie
She just couldn't bring herself to say “unwanted”
I would find myself staring at my crayons as the other kids colored
And I thought, I would look for the one marked "Strength" to color me in
Because maybe that is a more acceptable color
But I only found shame
My teachers gave me books and “multi-ethnic crayons” and told me to ignore them
Let it go
Sticks and stones
Like it was somehow my fault that I was the freak and not theirs for making me one
Given the choice, I'd choose the broken bones
I changed schools
People would chase me down at the store and ask me the same old questions
They would ask my mom if I was hers
They'd look at me and say "really"
It wasn't until I was 13 that my mom came in my room crying saying we needed to talk
I knew it was bad when I saw my brothers sitting at the table and my mom made me sit on her lap
A conversation that started with “your dad is your dad by choice” changed my life in more ways then I can count
She told me of the act made against her
that forced her to move across the country in fear
And how she was going to give me to a family that looked more like me
I was my mom's Scarlet Letter
That was the day that I truly hated what I was and what I represented
50 years from The March
and I still fight the questions off at work and school
It is 2013 and people are confused when I walk with my mom
And two blond-haired, blue-eyed boys my brothers
High School and still crying at night and already begging for an end
I watched as other kids in my class would walk the same path I walked
Maybe their story would be different, but their destination was not:
Self-hatred and depression
We became a clan looking for strength in each other, hoping to find the power to get through the day as we ran out of gas but kept going
Because we are used to running on empty
A girl getting made fun of because her forehead was larger as her mother told her it was because she is smart
She was the middle-mad passing drawings of herself from point A to B
She cried as the other girls laughed at her
A boy who's family didn't have the money for food but had enough to buy cigarettes
Who looked after his sister as they walked to school in their hand-me-down clothes
Both happy and horrified as he watches his sister float through school with no problems
As he sits by himself because if he is touches something
It will be infected with his germs
As if you can catch lonely
Breathing to close to him
A girl who gets pregnant at 14 by an 18 year old that promised her the love she never got at home
And left her when the deed was done
Raising 2 kids at 17 trying to finish high school
These are the crosses we carry with s for the rest of our lives
Feeling alone even though we know there are others suffering with us
Trying to empty ourselves of emotion and thought to numb the pain of existing
Believing all the things you called us because no one told us they weren't true
And knowing that we were going to wind up alone
Because if you can't love me
And I can't love me
Why should I expect someone else to
Never accepting a compliment because it feels like a cheap lie
Lashing out at those around us because we want
For one second to think that someone feels what you feel
That you aren't as crazy as you think
We want you to feel the pain we feel
But at the same time not fully because care too much
We are the self-made martyrs
Hoping that this foreign species we call friends might understand
But it's when we lean the hardest on those that claim to love
That they take a step back and yell at us for falling
When I begged you to tell me I was worth it, that you loved me
You said I just wanted attention
When I tried to open up, to see if this was truly a two-sided friendship
You told me that I never cared about you and I was selfish
But in reality
Everything I did was for you
Don't ask me what's wrong because I only know the word "fine"
But that one word is loaded down with so many truths that it's breaking my back
It's the reason my shoulders hunch and it's what pushes me to the edge of that cliff where I can make that escape
Don't ask me why I'm upset because it physically hurts to talk about it
But God I want you know the answer
So let me tell you something
With as much as you beat us down
To the point where we are standing eye-level with the underside of dirt
We are still standing
We may be unsteady
Tilting and tipping from one side to the next
Though it looks like we are seconds from crashing, burning and breaking
And believe me, it truly feels like we will
We are stronger than you will ever be
And when we win
We are going to look at you and say **** you.
We made it”
Sep 13, 2013
Sep 13, 2013 at 3:08 AM UTC
When people write
When people talk of all the bad things
They lived through
They saw
They talk about rain
“It was like a rain cloud over our heads”
“It felt like there was a constant rain cloud above
And it's accepted
Like it's common knowledge that rain is bad
It's your depression
It's your loss
And it's your God awful mood
Who decided this?
When did the rain become the worst thing there could be
“It was a dark and stormy night”
When she went on a walk
And it was bright and sunny when her life forever changed
I want to be the rain
I envy the rain
When the sky opens and you are drenched by the falls
You stop and stare
When the thunder screams it gets your attention
And you listen
I want that power
I want to make people listen to my words
I want my ideas to pour from me like water from the sky
And I want my words to hit you like thunder
Screaming into openness
And I want you to scream back
Because then do I get to watch realization flash across your face like lightening through the sky
when you figure out that I'm talking to you
The rain was never bad
It is not your depression
and it will never be your bad mood
But it will forever be taunting you with the power you wish you had
Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 3:09 PM UTC
Sometimes I wonder what it would be like
To feel human.
Just for a little while.
Jul 13, 2013
Jul 13, 2013 at 9:41 PM UTC
I came to the bitter realization that I will never come first with you
I fooled myself for years thinking I was someone important to you
Someone you could talk to
Someone you enjoyed
But I know that I was nothing more than a doormat to you
Taken out when needed, used, and put away
Like some decoration put on display only when the season was right
And I loved it!
I craved it
I couldn't wait for you to need something from me
Something that I couldn't afford to give, but did it anyway
Because I thought that's how friendships worked
So you would take me out of hiding and we would sit and talk
You would show me your insecurities and I would discredit them all
I did everything I could to build you up
And you told me you would do the same for me
but you lied to me
I came to you broken and bleeding
Praying that you could make it better because I didn't think I could handle any worse
And you tore me down
Pointed out my flaws and made me question my worth
And when I thought it was over, when I thought you were done,
You yelled at me for hurting
And you told me I never cared
You called me selfish
Everything I did was for you!
Even after you hurt me, I wanted to apologize
Because I wasn't clear enough, you didn't know how much I loved you
It was my fault
It will always be my fault
Jul 13, 2013
Jul 13, 2013 at 9:18 PM UTC
If I could look past myself to see the world around me,
I know I'd be a better person.
But instead, my thoughts create a light so blinding I have to put up shades that tint the world the color of insecurity just to see.
These shades, this insecurity, is like a funhouse mirror that works against you,
Making those around me immaculate Greek gods who stand a mile high
As I stand lower than dirt wondering how their flaws only add to their perfection while mine stand out like scars on every surface of my body.
But it brings with a comforting sense of consistency in an inconsistent world.
It wraps you in an embrace so tight it both soothes and suffocates you, but you can't bare to let go.
It becomes the overly understanding spouse you both despise and adore.
No matter how many times you cheat on it with false hope and cheap popularity, it
Keeps
Coming
Back
I'm so caught up in my past that I find myself walking backwards so I don't have to watch my future crumble around me
But I found that just because I stand still, doesn't mean time will do the same.
Time marched on and left me lost.
"Here and now" became "There and Then" and I found myself standing in the "Soon to Be".
I realized that at some point, my personality married the wind and left me in a gust that still leaves me cold.
A year ago I was asked if I knew who I was and I said I was like the one thing held constant in a science experiment.
As people were placed in the caged existence, a world the size of a petri dish,
I never changed.
I knew who I was
What I believed
If you asked me today,
I wouldn't have an answer.
One day I questioned reason and existence.
The day I looked to God and said "this can't be all there is, there has got to be more than this" was the day He sent me an instruction manual wrapped in a silver lining.
I was told to look for the best image of myself and work to obtain it
I found that it isn't easy turning the desert into the Garden of Eden
Jul 13, 2013
Jul 13, 2013 at 8:28 PM UTC
I am at the point
Where I question my existance
I am at the point
Where I loose faith in life
I am at the point
Where alone is my only feeling
I am at the point
Where insecurity is clouding all my judgement
I am at the point
Where I don't know why I keep going
I am at the point
Where I question my worth
I am at the point
Where friends begin to hate me
I am at the point
Where my only thought is
What's the point?
Jun 11, 2013
Jun 11, 2013 at 9:34 PM UTC
I've found I write best
When I have something to say
A story to tell
To the world
But what if
The world
Beat the story right out me?
May 13, 2013
May 13, 2013 at 8:55 PM UTC
My First, True, Best Friend
We’ve gathered here to celebrate
This wonder, perfect, and happy date
Because this day that’s come again
Is the day that was born my first, true, best friend
I’d like to ask if you remember when
We would choose our outfits from a costume bin
Or when we’d jump on the couch and play pretend
‘Till the ceiling was hit and we’d count to ten
All the laughter and bruises that each of us had
As we each had our turn being rolled in a sleeping bag
The hours playing games in the basement we’d spend
And how you’d boast about how you would always win
Eventually the games and costumes we outgrew
But I’ll never forget watching movies with you
Over the years we stayed somehow connected
A direct side effect of our friendship perfected
In many ways we’ve not stayed the same
But there are things between will never change
So thanks for the memories, let them never end
And thank your for being my first, true, best friend
May 11, 2013
May 11, 2013 at 9:59 PM UTC