This is my life. I have to be okay with the dark presence that looms over me, and I have to accept that I won’t be able to expel him for I must make friends with him to get my way. I have taught my self to just breathe every time I hear his loud footsteps coming up the stairs and not to duck underneath my covers or shout my mother's name. I learned to keep my distance, and In the darkest hour of the night even when he creeps through these halls, I must keep my composure and swallow my pills until the shaking has gone away. He goes by the name Dad, but he’s treated me unlike so, and now I don’t look him in the eye or laugh any longer than I should because one day I’m scared of what’ll happen if I do. I’m afraid of the day when I will lose to the darkness that creeps inside rooms once light and beautiful and changes the presence for good. Rooms once light now dark and dreary.

Be the flower that never stops blooming. Be the rose on a rainy day and be the sunflower on a summer afternoon. Be the model and make them tempted to tear you from your roots. Feel the hurt when they rip you from the ground and treat you like a doll, but know you aren’t a doll for sometimes pretty hurts. Know what it feels like when someone else appreciates your beauty. - I hope one day they take pictures of you and hang you on their wall

Your only imperfection is him who told you to change.

The home I grew up in was once of subtle yellows and green- moms favorite colors. When dad came home yelling that September night the walls caved in. Our home was broken but not literally so.
Mom and dad would scream while brother and I sat cold, we waited till he was done and we knew mom would be up soon. My bedroom was my safe haven, I had it as my own. Fairy lights dancing along my walls, darkness still crept in. The home I grew up in wasn't charming as it looked from beyond, it was crumbling, held up by Mother and warm tea.

The only thing that woke me up this morning was the meow of my kitten who wanted to be let in. He wanted to enter my safe space where my feelings and thoughts were pinned to my stark walls. I wanted my walls to be white. Like a blank canvas. I wanted a reason to wake up in the morning. I wanted to paint my thoughts each day. My bed felt like quicksand. I was being forced to stay beneath my sheets by an imaginary pull that I felt was so real. From my bedroom window, I can see the sunset reminding me of nights in our hammock ******* to our favorite tree. The tree drooped in an odd but beautiful way, and it was fascinating. I can also see the sunrise that on early Sunday mornings motivated me to roll out of bed, that was many times ago. The only reason I get out of bed some mornings is that I have high hopes that one day we’ll meet again at the farmers market just down the street. You'll bump into me and realize what we once had was special. You'll realize our love was as sweet as an August peach.

I went home that day, and I wrote about the boy in the green hoodie. I thought a lot about him, but I couldn't wrap my mind around what exactly it was that I liked about him. It could have been the way he danced at midnight in my mind. Dancing around the moon painting pictures of my thoughts. It could have been the way he made me feel when I had no feelings at all. No emotions to untangle, none at all. I think it was the thought of the memories we would create, the ones I could go home to tell mother about. The thing is though I never figured it out. I never knew of any other boys like the one in the green hoodie but, I never once believed it is true that I’d find someone new that was just like you.

I ate a peach the other day
It was delicious.
It reminded me of a summer day
Or a summer afternoon but,
Something of warm weather and fresh fruit.

I’m sorry I’m late. This thing called depression kept me from coming.

And sometimes it hits you when you least expect it. Like falling leaves but on an August day. It hits you and knocks you off balance but, you find a way back to reality. You find a way.

Sometimes it’ll hit us in our darkest hour when we needed it the least. You keep fighting. You are a fighter and he told you so. You knew you were strong before he made it known.

Some of us though, we don’t find the way. We don’t find a way to make it through. We struggle and overthink even the smallest thing. We’re sick from bareing the un cozy weather. Were sick of pushing back at the storm.

For the most of us who did make it, be strong for those who didn’t. For those who can’t. Because, the autum leave in the middle of August will hit you and you’ll realize that not everything is the way it seems.

Be still. Be sad. Be happy. Be tired. Be intelligent. Be wondering. Be telling. Be forgiving. Be demanding. Be a leader. Be a yogi. Be yourself. Be practical. Be a dreamer. Be an artist. Be a mathematician. Be a teacher. Be a student. Be kind. Be little. Be big. Be healthy. Be beautiful. Be bare. Be undiscovered. Be mindful. Be self enduring. Be persistent. Be a poet. Be poetry. Be anything and everything you want to be but, don’t be sorry. Don’t let him make you believe it was your fault. Don’t let him tell you that were asking for it. - You aren’t sorry

There are going to be things in life we don’t completely understand. We’ll never understand evolution or how humans came to be. We’ll never understand why bad things happen to good people or why everyone can’t get along but most importantly we will never completely understand love. We’ve seen it all before and we’ve experienced love ourselves. But, we are still confused about love and let me tell you it is okay to not know. It’s okay not to know who you love or how you love or when you love. You don’t have to know everything or anything about love. Love isn’t supposed to be analyzed or categorized for, it is to be experienced. Love is love. Love is beautiful. You are loved

And I know it hurts the most when you think about him at 4 am, you’re gasping for air trying not to make a sound, the crying is loud.

You can’t be loud or they will hear. I hope you find a love even better than him, a love that’ll make your depression disappear.

But if you can’t find the love, don’t go searching just let it come to you. Let love flow in like a waterfall on the edge of a desert shore. Please love, you will find it, just stay a bit longer

She was a swan. A swan of white and subtle grey who would dance around my kitchen in the middle of the night. Her fingers pricked the edges of my face as she slowly lifted my frown into the first smile i’d seen in awhile. She was a dancer but not like the elegant ones you see in the ballet shows, she had a mind of her one. She was the ugly duckling but a beautiful one indeed. The way her white feathers caressed my thoughts kept me guessing. The way she danced kept me wanting more.