These walls you've built
the ones you hide behind
like skin worn at clubs and bars

its the surface you.

but I know who you are.
there was nothing you ever had to prove
to me you were perfect
but, my love
that just isn't the way
I'm afraid you're going to lose yourself further
and further
and further
and I know you're flying
you always have been
and you will continue to fly for long after all is gone

and I won't be the one to keep you anchored on the ground

but please
don't fly too close to the sun
I'll be here when you want to come back down.
and if your wings melt off
I'll be here to catch you before the ocean does

I

Oh how fitting

To begin with a kiss the would put fairy tales to shame

Lights in the air and in the sky

With fingers intertwined like locks with lost keys

I held you. And you held me

The same air filling our lungs

Beneath the lights we danced and danced

Until we just stopped

Standing there. Tired and drunk on the night

Few words were said in that time

But at the end of it we kissed

you pulled me in because you knew i wouldn't

You knew I was afraid

But you knew I wanted to.




II**

Now there I was, years later

Eyes red from rain. Motionless

Motionless as I watch you walk away

...I guess I've always been watching you walk away

I took your hand

With a hand that spoke longing, need, want and fear above all else

Like the last breath of fresh air I would ever have

I held you in my lungs for as long as I could

I pulled you in.

At the basement of a car park

Beneath the glow of a fluorescent bulb

Serenaded by screeching tires of people who needed to be places.  

Our lips touched. For the last time.

And I let go

Because I knew you wouldn't

I knew you were afraid to hurt me

But I knew you wanted to.

You gave me a jar once.
It was painted black and labeled
"100 reasons why I love you"

Inside were 100 little green papers
with notes and memories
each individual piece reminding me
that I am not all bad.
That not all in the vortex of my mind is twisted
each piece gave me hope
hope I wasn't just a broken glass
useless.

The first time I told you
"I don't think you love me"
You looked at me with a face that spoke
equal parts anger and sadness
you told me
"Believe me or not, it's the truth"
And so I did.

Fast forward 3 years and countless lies later
you told me
"I never told you to trust me"
and you didn't
But what am I supposed to think
when you tell me
"Believe me or not, it's the truth"
was that not a challenge?
That somehow, you would prove my skepticism wrong
that even though you knew, you didn't deserve it
you hoped I would give you trust?
because I gave it.
I gave you a lot of things

A lot of things I can never have back
some things I do not want back

You gave me a lot of things too
Hope being one of them.
You gave me hope that I was more
hope that I was enough

You gave me a lot of things.
Happiness, anxiety, sadness, security
a hole in my chest
that hurts more than any piece of steel
run across my skin
a complex that reminds me
that I'll only ever always be 2nd to another
and
a reminder that I shouldn't trust so much...
not even the people I love.

And you also gave me a jar once
It was painted black and labeled
"100 reasons why I love you"
Inside were 100 little green papers
with notes and memories
but now it seems
they were just 100 little lies
that got the better of me.

The last time I tried to **** myself

they took away all my blades and pills and knives

hidden in boxes behind the oven.

They thought they were helping

They weren't.

The Cuts.. they help.

they let out the pain, anxiety, uncertainty, loneliness

anger, frustration, feelings of worthlessness

that found its way into my blood.

Let out in little, manageable incisions that kept me

sane.

The pills... they numbed my head.

Kept at bay all the worst thoughts

my mind came up with.

I remember my mom once told me

"Martin, Ideas a powerful thing

they can either hurt or help"

Well, mom never told me my own ideas

they could hurt ME.

because these wounds in my head

I'm pretty sure they're self-inflicted.

words weaponized and sent barreling down at me

Flowing, like fire. Facing myself

in the warfare of my own thought.

Knowing my own weaknesses and vulnerabilities

With precise strikes I tear apart my sanity



So yeah. Taking my pills.

Did not help.



Instead, they left me here.

Alone, to deal with myself,

unarmed with nothing but a pen and some promises that everything-

will be-al-right



They won't.



Now I'm here

Holding the last blade I have.

Found taped on a page of this journal.

A page entitled "My Fail-safe"

and the cold steel

if brings back the comfort of fond memories

and the smell of metal and blood indistinguishable.

I've held in so much since last I held this blade

and now, I can finally let it out

for

the last time