Waking up is chore.
Lifting my body from the bed,
Brushing my teeth,
Bathing.
They are exhausting, and I am done with the day before its begun.

I dont see joy in the sunshine, or hope on the sky.
I see hours to be filled, reality that I am alone.
The director of fun on a cruise i never wanted to attend.
The days all blur together and i am left questioning,
Why do I even bother?

There is more that I'm missing
So much I have chosen to cut out.
This life was one I never wanted but felt obligated to achieve.
In order to recieve the approval of the one person who despises me.

The lower I sink, the greater her self worth becomes.
It is apparent.
We are linked in this tug of war.
This life.
Drawing from the other.
Indulging our sick obsession, to become more than the other.

In my quest for validation,
I've made myself a prisoner.
Allowed myself to believe this was the way,
This was acceptable, deserved.
That i am no more than an after thought to those who I love above all else.

This feeling, is heavy and weighs me down.
I succumb to the smothering conclusion,
This will be who I am,
My story is written.
I have neither the understanding nor the energy to achieve,
Anything other than brushing my teeth.

Beauty is meant to be shared,
compared
open starry eyes,
bleed love,
feel things.
wonders of the universe.
joys of coffee,
all the things I love.

I'm afraid I'm losing her.
My appeal is gone.
No longer the object of affection,
No longer a shiny new thing.
I hold no attraction.

My soul is saddened.
I wish it was easier
To break through to her core.
To get her to open herself up.

I slice open my chest and reveal the beating mass,
What used to be a heart, left bloodied and bruised,
Now, looks more like a dying thing.
Not a vessel of hope, unable to sustain life.
Weak and laying on the edge of cessation,
I watch.

Is this the moment it stops, and I am lost behind the veil?
Is this my final act of desperation,
To watch, to wait, to become, this death?

I rattle
The pills, in the bottle.
Percussion simplified.
Make music on the rim of my glass.
Pour them out hold them in my hand.
Examine them as Pearl's,
Shucked directly from an oyster.
Things of immense beauty.
I am a collector.

I set myself a glass
Full to the brim.
Watch how the liquid swirls
Thicker than water
Darker than water
Not water.
I imagine the burn,
Sterilize my throat
Cleanse my wickedness
Burnt at the stake
From the inside out.

I imagine the way it feels,
To become the mussel,
Ingest the pearl,
Cleanse
Repeat
To count them 1 to 100
Transforming each time.
Into memory.
The fire within
Turn me to ashes.
Vapors.

I close them tightly
The oyster and the bottle
Set them back on the shelf
Admire them for another day.
No Pearl's
No fire
Only hope.
To be done.

She leads me,
Winding down all her back roads,
Taking shortcuts through her memory.
She is well versed in the way,
I'm just a straggler,
Trying to keep up.

She moves, in and out, up and around.
All the magnificent and intricate parts of her of mind.
Its enchanting.
To be lost in her wonderland.

But she moves too quickly,
And I'm lost.
Alone in the road, searching.
She is gone.
Left me here enchanted and amazed,
Finding much more pleasure than im able to give her.

She is the Cheshire cat.
Toying with me.
Enjoying my confusion as she peers on from a distance.
To say I dont enjoy myself would be a lie,
But I cannot see the road ahead.

I would die tonight if it wouldn't break your heart
I would swallow down all the hate and shame,
Pill by pill,
Sip by sip,
Until nothing remained, but the bottom of the glass ,
And the empty pill container.

I would lay myself across the floor,
In the path of the moon beams,
Waiting for the Great Mothers eye to find me.
Scoop me up,
And carry me into the wind.

And in the morning.
When the sun rose, and the light hit my corpse,
I would shine, for the very first time.
But I cant
Because your heart would break.
I wont carry that with me tonight.