I want to fly away
On wings of disassociation.

Dunk my head under sunlit water,
With my eyes wide open,
Breathe in the perfect blue water
And watch the shimmering colorful fish
As I lose consciousness.

I want to float into the sky,
Have the sun turn my skin pink
As I float higher
And higher
And
Higher
Up into the stars,
Until I reach the blank black space beyond,
And can no longer fill my lungs.

I want to lay on the mossy
Forest floor
And feel vines wrap around me,
Plants take root inside my carcass,
And moss cover my skin,
As the plants claim me.

Most of all,
I want to tell someone,
But I don’t want to admit it.

to hear my own voice,
I cry to hear nothing
but the pounding of my own blood
in my ears.

I found a piece of you
Stuck to me
Today.
Like a bee sting,
With the poison still inside.
Throbbing and itchy.

I know the signs
For when I crash.
I know I’m crashing
Right
Now.

Every fiber of me cried out
In that moment,
“You don’t want to drive away,
You just don’t want to hurt him with the dark thought that took up your headspace last night.”
But that only made me cry harder,
And drive faster.

You don’t belong
In old photographs.

You weren’t meant to exist
On paper
Trapped in a frame.

You belong in a garden.

Your pristine
Manicure nails
Belong in the dirt,
Digging for bulbs
And roots.

You’re too colorful
For a scene
Of black and white,
Too intricate
To be a memory.

I watched
As your body became
An object.
I saw you stop being you
In a hospital bed.

You looked delicate.

You’ve never,
Never,
Been delicate.

You’ve been feminine
And beautiful,
But always along side
Strength.

New York farm girl,
With a touch of
Glamour,
An elegant survivor.

You told my sister
And I
You would still sneak out to the garden,
And not to tell.
We never told.

You were never meant to be
Less than yourself.

Your blood
Runs through my veins,
Your fortitude in every step.
Your cheer in my smile,
Your movie star beauty
In all of our faces.

You were never
Meant to be
An old photograph.

You were my dream
When I was sixteen,
And my nightmare
Three years later.
Every time I think
I’m starting to forget you
I wake up from a nightmare
Facing your
Cold
Blue
Eyes,
And
Hot
Hot
Breath,
And I know I can never forget.

I’m a rain cloud today,
Low hanging,
Dark,
Heavy.
Full
And trying to release.

She used to be the one
who was by my side
through all of my potentially
bad decisions,
but now it's you.

She was there through
bad haircuts,
tattoos.
piercings,
and daring outfits.

But she always held me back,
****** back the chain
and reminded me
that I can't just do things,
I have to be afraid first.

Now you
cheer me on,
and hold me
when it doesn't go to plan.
The decisions I'm making are better,
and I'm less afraid.

I’m stronger than you,
I want you to know that.

Before I was strong enough to love me
I made myself strong enough to love you.
Before I was strong enough to get through a night by myself
I made myself strong enough to talk you through your earliest AM.
When I was so angry with you I couldn’t breathe
I would pick up the phone, I would choose to love you anyway.

Love isn’t having warm fuzzy feelings all the time.
Love is feeling like ****
And still putting the other person first.
Love is being betrayed
And taking care of you anyway.

Love is more than you feel for me.

You care for me,
I don’t question that you care for me.
But I love you with an iron will you don’t have.
I love you with a power you have never felt.
I love you like a mother feeding her child while she goes hungry.
I love you like as a person dying, but asking still if you’re in pain.

You don’t have that strength.

You can choose that strength,
Or I can choose myself.

Being perceived as normal is an art.
  My PTSD Atypical brain
is accidentally obvious,
and so I must be practiced and calculated
to stay hidden.

It isn't the cute eccentricities
that give us all mildly embarrassing quirks
that keep me up at night
obsessing over my behavior.
It's the trickle of trauma that seeps out of me
and marinates in with conversations
that should be normal.

It isn't random shoulder shaking sobs
or public screaming matches,
or anything obvious enough
to merit the stares of passerbys.
It's more
a bump in the road,
a single tight knot
in a strand of yarn,
or a piece of eggshell in pancake batter.
Not terrible enough to upset the balance completely,
but your thumb runs over it repeatedly a few times
in annoyance
because you can feel it just enough
to know it shouldn't be there.

It shouldn't be there.

I'm trying to practice
being average.
Practice being quiet when I should,
and learn the pieces of my life
that were traumatic
so I can hide them enough
to get by in a daily vanilla life.

But it's exhausting.

It turns out you were right...
No one is ever going to want me.

A full stomach
Feels like giving up.

“What if
I go back to who
I was?
What if I’m not as good..?”

You walked in on
The worst moment
Of my life,
While I was lying on a kitchen floor,
With all the pills in the house
Sitting on the counter,
Ready to be taken.
And you chose to walk the path
That led to loving me
Anyway.

If you
Need to be sad,
Or less than yourself
For a while...
If you lose your patience
And need help finding it.
If you get angry,
Or hurt...

I may push you
To be better again,
Just like you’ve pushed me.
But I won’t stop loving you.

I’m not in love
With the perfect version
Of you,
I’m in love with you,
And you have flaws,
And rough days,
Or weeks
Even years.
But I’m here
For the long haul.

As long as
You
Want me,
As long as you love me
More than you love
Your dysfunction,
I will love you too.

I was naked today
In front of a crowd of people.

I danced naked,
The colors of my skin
Caught the light,
The curves of my body,
The secret parts

I was naked for an audience.

I read my poetry
In a lowlit room,
With art covering the walls.

I was emotionally naked

‘...You were the only choice.
She was something
I had to get out of the way
First.”

The hot water
Wrinkles my fingertips
And stretches my hair
Down my back
In a red waterfall.

My knees are tucked
Up against
My chest.
The water
Turned to the hottest setting
So it’s still warm
When it reaches me
Down on the floor.

I close my eyes
And pretend
It’s washing off
Everything.

Every painful bruise
From my high school sweetheart.

Every time Dillon
Pushed my head down his body.

The hard grip
On my hand
That Matt had
As he placed my hand
On his *******.

The sloppy kisses
Eddy gave me
On his sunshine soaked
Bed.

The kiss on my neck
James left
Without warning
In a public place
Where I felt like I couldn’t
Be angry.

Rob’s hands
Never
Leaving
Me
Alone.

But most off all,
The body
Of the love of my life.
If that
Could wash off
I could pretend
I never
Risked him
For a moment of release.

The water
Drips down my forehead,
And my closed eyes,
Catching in my eyelashes.

I want to be clean.

I never said the words
“I tried to **** myself”
To my sister.

We prefer to use things like
“I went through a hard time.”
And occasionally I’ll flippantly say
“I tried to off myself.”

“Suicide”
Is a word
That I’m afraid to utter
For fear
Of upsetting the balance.

She never asked,
I think she thought
That made it easier for me.
But I was found
On a kitchen floor
Passed out,
Covered in my own
*****.
And she never asked
What happened that night.

It hurts the people who love you
When you try to die.
It hurts them so much they can’t talk about it.

I need to.

I need to be able to say
That I tried to do that to myself.

That I was in so much pain
I started to self destruct.

I need to say it out loud
Because I need someone to care
That I did it.

At the dinner table,
We talk about how everyone’s day was,
And I usually say too much
Or get too intense,
And I don’t realize until I’m hushed.

We talk about scarves,
And discount shampoo,
And boys,
And the kids,
And church.

But I don’t really have friends anymore,
I wish you knew that you were just about it.
I wait for you to get home
With your family dog,
We share the same lonely eagerness.

But I’m extra.
I shouldn’t be here.
It’ll be better when I’m gone.

If we all never talk about it,
I guess it’s like it never really happened.

My body is terrified.
Clenched up
Hunched in on itself,
Terrified.

My fear tells me
To run,
Because if I stay
I’ll make everything worse.

But I can’t.

Because I won’t create a reality
That would make it
Impossible
For me to come back to you.

I may be terrified,
But I won’t saw off
My leg
Because of a fracture.

I won’t ever leave,
Because I will always
Want to come back.

I have a workshop,
With a circus of colors
To preform and entertain.
Sheets of stained glass
In every color
Only limited by my imagination.

I cut the pieces in curly shapes
And faces,
Into smiles and frowns,
Into leaves or flowers.
Slowly
Arrange
The perfect picture,
Then stand back to look at my masterpiece.

I can never take my eyes away...
Sunlight bringing it to life,
Lighting the reds
On fire,
The blue turns to water,
The faces are are angelically glowing,
And I can’t stop looking,
I’m so lost in the picture...

I can’t see the world through it...
I forget there’s a world through
It,
It’s so beautiful,
Everything I ever wanted...

CRASH.

A hailstorm crashes through,
Shattering the glass,
And the hell storm
Out side blows where the beautiful
Manufactured image once stood.

I find myself a home,
And I fill it with stained glass.
I refuse to see anything around me
Except the picture I’ve dreamed into my reality.

And then the true reality crashes through,
It always does
Eventually.
Destroying almost, if not all, the wonderful things I’ve been so focused on.

I’ve found myself a home,
And I don’t remember building windows,
But the real world outside
Looks beautiful.
It’s full of flowers and leaves,
Sunshine and rain,
Faces with smiles,
And tears,
But no hell storm.

I know in the pit of my stomach,
That it’s going to be shattered,
And I don’t want to be caught off guard this time...
I want to catch it in my hands,
All the awful things,
And hold them like a struggling scared animal
So they can’t surprise me this time,
So I don’t feel like the stupid one
This time.

I’m wandering around
With a rock in my hand,
Going from beautiful thing,
To beautiful thing,
And trying to hit it with the rock,
Trying to break the illusion
Before I love it too much.
I may not remember,
But I must have built the image
In my wondrous workshop,
And tricked myself again.

But no windows are breaking,
And I’m shaking.

What’s wrong?
Why can’t I escape the illusion?

Because I haven’t realized,
Maybe it’s just a plain old boring window,
Not stained glass,
But reality.

‘...To your own bed now, or...”
You kiss my neck.
I’m tangled around you,
With my hand
Underneath your boxers
Caressing your hip.

You whip my hair
Out of my face
And kiss me,
Hard and unwavering.
You squeeze my breast,
And climb on top of me.

I roll you back over and kiss you softly.
“All right.”
We quickly break away from each other.
“I love you, I’ll see you tomorrow,”
“I love you too.”

I pull my pants on,
And lean over your bed
Demanding one last kiss.
You grab me
And pull my body to yours
With ease,
And for a moment we’re tangled up again,
Your leg between mine,
Rubbing,
And thrusting yourself against me.
And I kiss you
long and unrelenting.
Then I pull away,
Whisper
“Sweet dreams,”
And you mutter a like reply.
And I leave.

Yes,
We’re being good.
But,
We’re still having a bit of fun.

As much as I’d tried
To hollow myself out
To make room for you,
The healthy side of me
Always fought back,
Fought to push you
Out again
Like an infection.

“Can I just sleep here?”
He exhaled, exhausted.
The past month
He’d been carrying my worries along side me,
Regardless of his own.
He bought me drink
After drink,
Made me food,
Of course he could sleep here,
He was my friend.

We can control ourselves.

A hug goodnight
To my housemate
And I got changed in the bathroom,
Stumbling down the hall.
He was already in my bed,
All wrapped up in my red blanket.
His shirt and pants were on the floor
In a heap.
“Are you just in your boxers?”
I asked, uncomfortable.
“It’s the only way I can sleep.”

I got under my quilt,
Careful to keep my body from his,
Pressing myself against my wall.
He put one arm around me,
And one under my pillow
Like a halo above my head,
In exactly the way he did
When we were together.
He pulled my red blanket over me, and I felt his warm skin.

I pulled away from him,
I could feel his *******.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah,”
He buried his face in my neck,
And he let out a contented sigh.

How did I get here?

I kept picturing him with his ex wife,
He kept telling me they’re working things out,
And it’s going well.
He’s happy.
So why is he here right now?
Why is my heart breaking all over again?
I worked so hard to be friends,
To be content as friends.

“Your **** is up against my ****.”
“Sorry, I’ll move my leg.”
And he did for a moment.
His hand went under my shirt,
Stroking my stomach.
My breathing got heavier,
I was a terrifying mixture of fear
And anticipation.

I knew I should stop him...

But I didn’t expect it to go farther...

Too many drinks,
I couldn’t think.

He pushed his crotch up against me again.
I wriggled away,
Body tense
Trying to remember
He isn’t mine.
He moved with me,
Not allowing an inch between us.

His hand moved down my stomach,
Down to my hips,
Down...
Down...
Down.
I pulled his hand out.
“What are you doing?!”
“Just helping you out.”
His hand goes back down,
I pull away again.
“Think about what you’re doing,
Think about her.”
“We aren’t exclusive yet.”
He’s back,
Touching me the way he knows I love.
But he shouldn’t be...
He shouldn’t be.

“Just a one time relapse...”
He finishes me off,
And I turn away from him,
Ashamed I let him.
He pulls at the back of my sweat pants
“Rob...”
Pulls down...
Down...
Down.
“You’re not going to be okay if we do this, are you?”
“I’d be fine, it’s you I’m worried about.
What about her?”
“It’ll just be once.”

Just once.

It was technically consensual,
But having to specify
Over and over again,
Hurts.
It shouldn’t have happened without certainty,
Even if I said yes.

College is over
For most of the kids I grew up with,
And now everyone’s getting married
And having babies.
“It’s that time of life”
That’s what I keep hearing,
I’m supposed to feel behind,
And that’s supposed to feel comforting.

Short bottle blonde hair
that catches the light,
tan skin that glows in the evening air.
Enough emotional baggage
to fill a train,
but I guess you have a type.

Jordan it isn't fair.

I shouldn't have let you win me
so easily,
but that doesn't mean I'm not worth anything.

So maybe she's beautiful,
and maybe she needs you,
but you said you wanted me,
I don't need to be broken again.

You found me lying on my kitchen floor
covered in my own *****,
with all the pills in the house
collected in a decorative
plastic basket.
Do you think
I need to be taken for granted
one
more
time?

I'll be fine if you're gone,
I will.
But I don't want you to be.

If you want me
to stop
worrying,
to stop being angry,
stop
talking
to her.

Stop checking her social media
constantly,
stop caring more if you talk to her
than if you talk to me.
You're almost still obsessed with her
and that was okay
when we were first together
and I was trying to give you space to heal,
but it's quickly becoming not okay.

I was your second choice,
regardless of how you argue with me,
I'm not stupid Jordan,
I know.

If you want her
you can't want me too.
I won't let you.