And the most important step that needs to be taken

Is to accept your emotions

And not think yourself weak because of them

When people ask me about my first love,
I remember the smell of melted crayons.
Not your smile, your golden skin, or the way your face would wrinkle in deep thought.
But about the carelessness of a child in your backseat,
And how with help from the sun,
your car was forever perfumed by a melted, purple Crayola.
I grew to love this scent.
It's an odd thing to even say aloud now.
However, it's permanently imprinted in my mind.
Over summers spent in your car and nights staring into your eyes,
I grew infatuated with this waxy, sweet aroma that filled the air between us.
It became your cologne that stayed with my clothes while you were away,
My comfort when you were near.
It was never sickening or invasive,
But desired and wanted.
So when people ask me about my first love,
I tell them about this boy who always smelled of crayons and how much I miss him.

I used to wonder why storms are named after people
I now know that it’s because they will destroy you in the most permanent way possible
The rain comes down heavily; the wind picks up causing trees to sway crazily, threatening to fall. They were the perfect storm. I could appreciate a good rain; I could handle it. I didn’t think this could ruin me.
I didn’t think they could ruin me.
The rain is coming down so hard I’m scared the roof will crumble. The power line across the street comes down with a large oak that’s been there for upwards of years, and a small electrical fire starts. It grows bigger and bigger until it’s uncontrollable.
It starts to flood, water coming in from the small windows.
I’m scared. I’m cold. I’m unable to control what’s going on and it’s terrifying.
Most of all, I’m angry with myself for trusting.
It was a bad decision to greet the world with arms wide open

Standing out is not an option
People can see every crack in your heart when you wear it on your sleeve
Every day was a dance with death;
My shaky body was poised and delicate, much like a dancer,
Only, I was poisoned and a skeleton
An act of cannibalism, in the most passive way possible
I wanted my body to digest itself so that I could create someone better
I spent lunch alone, wasting away, waiting for hope
I was an empty shell with hollowed out eyes, that stared at opportunity and only sighed
In my mind I didn’t matter, so my soul didn’t even bother showing up to school
My girl’s night out of body experience became the only thing I’d do on Fridays

I used to be a happy kid
I didn’t know then that everything would become a battle with no way to win
I’ve been shot down so many times that I get altitude sickness just from standing up for myself
I’ve blistered my hands from holding onto failed relationships because I was so afraid of being alone
I’m not the only kid who grew up this way
So many kids are addicted to pain,
The urge to hurt is a drug in their veins,
I hate when I see the way their eyes glaze
As they turn into dolls, eyes jutting out and glistening like ice after it thaws
Because I once was there too
I know what it’s like to lose faith
I know what it’s like to be afraid
I know what it’s like to stand in the middle of a hurricane
Watching the world fall apart at your feet to the beat of your racing heart

I learned to play piano with broken fingers because I gripped too ******* my dreams
I painted apologies in the stars with the night, sorry that I forgot so many wishes
Wrote letters to people that they’d never get to read
Lyrics to songs I’d never sing
And stories of love that would never be
I learned to play blue because I was sorry
That I ran away from love because I thought I could handle life alone
Commitments don’t leave the safety of their home frequently
And I’m a little tired of waiting
The uncertainty of catastrophe- messy, tender, threatening- confines me
I feel like I’ve been punched in the face so many times that I can’t breathe
I laugh away my problems like bad jokes will make them leave
I have a problem with my mind. Take care of me.

I’m tired of living like this.
Trying to breathe in the unpredictability.
I’m only a rock, unable to leave as the storm wears me away
Night wraps its hands around my throat, stifling any hope of a better day
We tear down the stars with bloodied knuckles
No longer saying sorry for mistakes we didn’t make
I’m not going to be ashamed for not falling in love
Unfortunately I learned to play God
The celestial skeleton of the eye watches as I fall.
Like the good soul of hope, it concerns the night.
It calls us, beckoning us towards chaos
For nothing is so meaningless as when we lose our bearings.