So out of touch,
Lost, out overlooking sea.
Adrift, alone —
Cast out, wayside of the rift.
Scream, beg, but no sound.

Tired, futile to ease,
One foot forward, drag the back.
Adrift, alone —
Struck down, caught by the plague.
Scream, beg, but vacuum surrounds.

So uneasily unstable,
A crumbling world, can't fix the cracks.
Adrift, alone —
Fallen once, an angel, now trapped.
Scream, beg, but alas,

No sound.

I wrote myself letters,
And there they sit -
Behind the pink wax canvas,
Forever locked alongside
The skeletons in my closet.

Shame imbued in every word,
My soul spilled onto the pages
I ripped from notebooks,
To be added to the mess
Of my growing misery.

Eight separate letters,
Written over the years
And in every single one,
You can feel the desperation building -
Festering, like all my open scars.

I reread the letters,
Tears streaming down my face,
Leaving a wake of fire behind,
My heart stopped every at word,
I choked with every breath.

All the passive comments,
And the insults slung like bullets,
I was my own judge, jury and executioner,
How can someone become
Their own firing squad?

But what hurt the most,
Was the mantra of apologies,
Chanted like a sinner's prayer.
A hundred "I'm sorry"s,
Each one cutting deeper than a blade.

I wrote myself letters,
And there they sit -
As a reminder of who I was,
And of the place, I've sworn,
I will never go again.

The sweet nectar of Spring,
And a love forgotten with time.
Forever longing for the future,
Yet ignoring the past left behind.

The husky breath of Summer,
And a burning fire left to bate.
Forever haunted by memories,
Yet terrified of what does await.

The cozy dream of Autumn,
And the tired lover is lost.
Forever stuck fantasizing,
Yet always vulnerable and soft.

The cold apathy of Winter,
And the spark of love has gone.
Forever trapped in the cycle,
Yet waiting for a romantic dawn.

Hold onto me as tight as you can,
I’m just learning to walk,
And here I stand unsteady, terrified to fall.

As a child I ran, instead of taking baby steps,
Full confidence, and full stride,
Pride was all I ever saw on my mother’s face.

I could get high off of that smile,
So I became an addict, desperate to show my capabilities,
Dying to show my perfect qualities.

My mastery became a constant, an expectation,
And perfection became my whole life,
Even though society screamed it was all a lie.

Never did I feel worthy,
“Good enough”
Was a phrase I was foreign to.

So I sought out my worth,
And ended up finding my substance in substances,
I stole drinks in the moments I was alone.

A dangerous game, with rewards reaped in the dark
One sip, two sips, and a million more —
I‌ spent the nights drunk on gasoline.

Flames ran through my veins, torching my soul,
A silent torture devouring my brain,
Appeasing the demons within.

They told me I was ageless, and I fell for it,
Is that what it is? Not liquor, but maturity,
Is maturity my worth?

If the burning made me feel older,
Would the blood and bone feel the same way?
So, I scarred my own skin to test my theory.

It never brought the maturity,
The feeling I knew would make everyone proud,
But instead it reminded me I was alive.

I was ripped from my own apathy,
And instead of the numbness,
I‌ felt every emotion I worked so hard to push down.

I tried to fight it all off, but I couldn’t any longer,
The weight of the feelings I forgot I had,
Made me buckle at the knees and crumple to the ground.

For the first time in my life I had stopped running.
And as the paralysis left me,
And all the emotions flooded to my mind,

I saw clearly.

No longer was I blinded by the expectations forced upon me.
Slowly I will heal, and I plan to walk,
So please, hold onto me, and never me let go.