On long car rides late at night,
You finally exit the freeway'
And the car slows to a gentle stop.
The lost momentum stirs you and your eyes open
Just enough to see the car's insides bathed in red light.
Your eyes are more comfortable when they're closed,
And the warm air whispering from the vents invites you
To slip under completely.

The early morning, when you still have an hour or two of sleep.
You turn to get more comfortable,
Feeling the warm spot where you used to be.
You sigh deeply and,
For a moment,
You think you catch the scent of your own home.
You pull your sheets higher and feel your body relax.

The teacher is lecturing.
You feel your legs grow heavy.
Your blinks become longer until
It's more work to open them than you're willing to put forth.
The fluorescents buzz a lullaby just for you.
You hear, but you can't listen.
A sharp jolt.
Your head bobs.
You are awake.

You're seconds away from falling asleep.
A dull flash lights your eyelids, and
Though your breathing stays the same,
Your heart rumbles with the distant thunder.
You are made aware,
Once more,
Of the steady patter of rain on your window.

I've woken up in the middle of the night.
I never got around to closing the blinds.
The only sounds are that of my still, sleepy breath,
the near silent roll of tires on the snowy street.

We were hot on our hike,
So we stopped by a spring.
After soaking our feet for a moment, you lay down to rest.
You're asleep now.
The hot sun warming my back,
The water nipping and chilling my feet,
The occasional splash of a from in the shallow pools,
And the steady, pulsing wing breathing fresh life into my lungs.

Ducking underwater when I'm the only one in the pool.
A quiet, turquoise haven.
There's no splashing,
Yelling,
Clinking toys;
Nothing but the sound of my own heartbeat in my ears.

Depression
hit like a train.

a jolt.

derailed.

blackness.

No Survivors

I wake up in the morning,
Swiping spiderwebs from the corner of my eyes.
All the flies attract the predators.
I brush one off my shoulder,
Not out of fear, but out of convenience.

It’s happened before,
where a thought sits and stews.
The sun bakes my brain
And the garbage inside attracts buzzing flies
Swirling around my head.
People’s mouths are moving but all I hear
Is the constant drone and thrum of decomposers.

And before long, slugs and snails and worms creep through my ears
Thriving on the decay,
The rot of my brain.

As with everything, rot comes and goes with the season,
And I simply wait out the stench of spoiling thoughts.
There’s the option to rake out the old,
Clear the paths of my mind,
But I’ve found that as soon as it’s cleared, it’s back again.
Like leaves in the fall.

But it comes and goes,
And comes again, and goes again,
And before I know it, the rotten thoughts are replaced by ones of hope.
A breath of peace and hope.
Life.
My brain blooms,
And the rain waters my face.

Instead of waking with spiders,
I feel a gentle breeze.

Heartache is:

Smelling
        your cologne on a stranger

People
        saying your name and I smile, but then I remember

Listening
        to our favorite song from that concert we went to

Listening
        to One Republic- they're your favorite band

Realizing
        that I still check your horoscope when I laugh at mine

Swiping
        your texts away

Staring
        at the dark ceiling, and remembering the last thing you told me

Worrying
        I'll see you when I'm out, when I used to hope that that was the case

Noticing
        how cold my hand is

Noticing
        how happy everyone else is

Driving
        past our favorite McDonald's on State Street

Sitting
        in the airport terminal where we once texted until 3:00 in the morning

Thinking
        I'm over you, then seeing you and realizing how wrong I was.