Sometimes I feel like the wrinkled laundry that no one cares to fold or even dares to walk past in worry they may feel pressured to just get the job done. I feel as though I am something you may avoid reading too deeply into for you will get caught in the waterfall of my tears and be ****** slowly beneath the raging waters of hope but self doubt. The paper bag blowing in  the wind could be seen as more important than I for some times they don’t even hear my footsteps or see my shadow lurking through the dark hallways to meet the fridge, rather lonely from my days of not eating, but it greets me anyway, happy to see I’ve picked up a grape and smoothed it’s skin over my teeth and bitten into it hard but softly because it’s only a grape.   But she’s only a girl, she’s only a girl with a journal and a poetry book don’t worry much. I hear them talk about me and whisper through walls empty because my childhood photos are gone for I don’t want to remember the past me. I can hear them clenching their jaws as the sound of my weeping fills the shallows of the  home.  I can feel their worry about the  paper bag in the wind and the crumpled flower on my windowsill.

You are the sunshine that lingers in my room when I feel so dark and lonely. You peek through my curtains blinding me with idea that I can get out of bed and nestle in blooming flowers and sprouting trees. Spring is coming you whisper to me but my mind is foggy, filled with thoughts of losing my self and trying to find myself again. You are the bird that chirps outside my window reminding me of the new day and the sunshine you are soon to bring in. You were the light of my life until you left leaving me lonely with little bird song to be sung and little sunshine to be felt.

And I felt like running, running so far I lost sight of everyone in my life or soon to be. I couldn’t find anywhere to go, every place so full of memories, every place so full of the depression lingering in my life in moments where I should have been happy or something along those lines. I never knew a happiness where I didn’t feel a sadness along with it too. I sat on the roof only pondering what it meant to be alive. I was told there was a difference between living and being alive but does living mean sunsets and cherry trees? Or happiness on clouds of sunshine? I didn’t know. I didn’t know what it meant to want to get out of bed every morning or ride bicycles through summers filled with faint memorys of people no longer in my life. I wanted to live but I didn’t want to be alive...

And I hated myself for missing you. I hated the way the bottle of pills whispered your name reminding me of the time we climbed steep mountains and dove deep in Great Lakes. The pills stroked your gentle brown hair as the tears flooded my face with an overbearing sense of doubt but also forgiveness. How could I miss you? But the pills told me the answer to that one too, they reminded me of your deep blue eyes that looked as though not a single rock lay beneath the ocean- so pure. The pills sang the songs we sang just a little off key and laughed at the jokes only we knew. They told me of the memories I would never forget when I stepped into the woods where our names were carved in that tree. They never let me forget all the time we spent together or the places we once knew...

And on that cold but sunny day I laid amongst the strangers that rested upon my bed like we’d been friends or something close to that. They whispered to me with evil intentions hoping to knock me down farther than I’d already been, hoping to scare me into the storm that followed. I told myself it would be better and I told myself it couldn’t get worse. I told myself about the horses and the bees and all the flowers to bloom in early spring. I reminded myself of the tea and honey that my mother poured with soft breaths and open arms. I dreamt about the boy and the tree and the magical star trips during the hours that no one knew. Something about the leaves and the dog who barked with excitement whenever he saw me gave me a hope or two. I knew it could only get better for the sun had risen today and not because it was told so but because someone wished I could live another day.