Thoughts.

They swim
they creep
they whisper
they speak
they distract
they attack
they advance
they mislead

This head of mine with an abnormal amount of thoughts,
intelligent, but confused, and occasionally distraught.

It's strange

that we're scared to be afraid
it hurts to show pain
and somewhat prideful to be vain.

Wouldn't it be easier
if we weren't all so emotionally insane?

It's strange.

I'm learning to let my realities blend
I swear, I
Blink for a second, but minutes pass
It's like I fell asleep
My letters switch and I can't
Describe the way I see my room

It's hard to look at the broken walls
With sharp, thick lines
Like the way they divide countries
It's hard not to write a love poem
Even as I fall asleep

In my head,
It pulls apart first
Where the floor meets the wall
My window stays intact
But the floor boards are ripped up
The wall is sharp and jagged

The blackness in the middle
Is horrifying
And beautiful and intriguing
I'm not afraid of being tired
But I've typed the wrong letters
And the image is gone

I'll stay up all night to show you a flash
The empty space where my walls used to be
I wake up and it's gone
So I'm fighting to find the keys
I forget what I was fighting for

I write down everything I think
Because I'll close my eyes for a second
And then I won't remember
I wake up with ripped up drawings
And poems
That I don't remember making

I want to say one more thing to you before I go to sleep,
Like I do every single night,
But I can't find my hands.
It takes me three tries to turn off the lights
And then I am scared of the dark

My thoughts don't linger long enough to express to you. I'll sit here, peacefully, and wait for the room to fall apart. I listen to my racing thoughts silence each other and I forget what I was going to say to you. I sit there until I am too tired to stay upright and I fall asleep. Some nights are still restless, but the others-
I forget.

The day I left
I took one stone,
put it in my pocket.
As I walked away,
all lost
behind the mountains,
it became so heavy
I could barely stand.

I had to let it go.

I stopped there,
looking down at the road
paved
by so many betrayals.

A single step
can be safer than the next
or the last.

The snow covers
a delicate layer of ice.
From a far,
no one would know
what lies beneath.
Just a quiet, white field,
of freshly fallen snow.

I like the way
the ice crackles
right under my boots
just before it breaks.

At that time,
the thrill is harmless.
Merely those small,
spider web cracks.
Intruding in it's
perfect crystal floor.

But as soon as that ice
folds from under me,
I am surrounded by
a world of water
and its heavy.
Dragging me down,
to cold to handle.

Why do I chose
to walk on the ice?