There, in the looking glass
Don't you see her?
Her eyes, light green
So full of mystery and past pains
Her dress, so pallid
Has been stained by words so very brutal
And her lips, trembling so
Daring to speak but she won't
For her lips have been sewn shut
By the man who told her not to orate one word
The man who should've listened
The man who should've loved her
The man who she dares not to ever utter his name even once
The man who she should've been proud to call Dad
Is now the man who's ruined her
Who's given the hellish gift of anxiety
Its icy hands wrap ‘round her neck like a vise
Reminding her of his merciless words
The bullets that he shot at her
The scars he has given her
And now her white dress is no longer just stained
But it is a whole new color
All thanks to he who shall not be named

I used to look into the night sky and gaze at the stars.
I'd wonder what it would be like, to touch one.
Or to be up there, floating amongst those beautiful ***** of fiery light.

But tonight, there are no stars.
And I ponder about where they've gone.
I wonder how each and every one of those great specks in the sky seem to have dimmed and died away.

And I sob because of this.
I scream into the dark void of what is night, demanding that the stars return.
But they don't.

They don't return and I can't touch them.
I can't wonder what it'd be like to be floating with them.
I can't lay in the tall grass and try to count them when I can't sleep.

So, I don't sleep tonight.
I just lay still, and will them back into view.
Will them to fill my vision and mind with amazement and thoughts of complete awe.

But they don't return.

The anxiety of it all strangles me, and I can't do it any longer.
I have to shut my eyes and breath.
I can't keep worrying about this.

After what feels like an eternity, my eyelids flutter open.
And there they are.
As if they never even left.

All of them singing their songs to me.
Each one telling its story.
And my heart finally can stop beating so loudly in my ears.

Tears well up in my already wet eyes.
But this time, these are joyful tears.
Because my stars once again fill my mind and heart with wonder and contentment.

I feel as if someone has punched me in the stomach.
And I can't breathe.

As if someone is stabbing my lungs.
And I can't breathe.

As if someone is ripping at the tendons inside my body.
And I can't breathe.

I feel as if someone has ****** the air from around me.
And I can't breathe.

As if air never existed.
And I can't breathe.

I miss her.
Everything about her.
The way her lips purse as she looks into my eyes, and her smile.
My God that smile could make any day better.
She is beauty.
She is grace.
She is patience.
She is love.
She is everything to me.
Her hair.
Her dark mane that belongs between my fingers cannot be touched for she is not with me.
I miss the way it curls in the back.
I miss putting it behind her ears so I can see her visage better.
My hands long for her skin.
I yearn for the time that I can intertwine my fingers with hers and never let go for as long as I live.
This world does not know what a lovely creature it has inhabiting it.
The world is so blind to her and what she has to offer.
I must say that anyone who crosses her path must be ready to receive such intense grace and beauty.
For if they are not, I’m not sure they could handle her.

Oh Gabrianne, you are my rose.
My sweet, sweet rose.
A rose whose petals do not wilt.
A rose who bears no thorns, only new buds.
For you are always blossoming.
You are always growing.
And my dear, you are growing into the most beautiful rose I have ever seen in my entire life.
All who look upon you can never just look once.
You bear that much beauty.

She.
She is beautiful.  
I can never tell her that enough.
She doesn’t believe me every time I tell her.
And that’s okay.
That’s why I’m here.
To tell her every day.
Every hour.
And every minute.
Because I know that it is true.
I know that she is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever come to know.
She is the type of woman whom you can just look at her, and forget everything you once worried about.
It all doesn’t matter anymore.
She’s taken those burdens and thrown them away just with her eyes.
My God.
Those eyes.
They’re like the sky.
But with no clouds.
Blue.
Blue for miles and miles and miles.
Never ending, blue.
They are the ocean.
They hold so, so much.
So much that no one will ever be able to discover everything that may be hidden deep in the waters of her eyes.
But no matter, that’s what makes life interesting.
They are my blue pens and markers and my blue shirts.
They are blue butterflies and painted blue nails.
Absolutely everything blue.
And they are beautiful.  

How could I ever tell this woman how much I adore her?
How much I love the way her hands feel on my skin…
How much I need her kisses…
I’m not sure I ever will be able to tell her how much.
There are just not enough words in the English vernacular to express how much I love and care for this woman who walked into my life just two short months ago.

This lovely creature.
This divine being.
This gorgeous woman.
This woman is truly a Godsend.
And she continues to be.
She makes me remember why I live and breathe in such a treacherous world as this.
She makes me remember what love tastes like.
She teaches me to know what it’s like to love myself.
She teaches me the meaning of a healthy relationship.
I cannot thank her enough for that.

I miss her.
Everything about her.
My sweet, sweet rose.

The voices in her head
She tries to make them silent
But every time she tries
They only grow more violent

And when she finally gives up
And lets her demons take over
She seems to go insane
From the voices that control her

She tries to sing a song
And they leave her for a moment
But when her voice goes still
They come back like a tyrant

The harsh memories in her mind
Are only a reminder
Of what she's gone through
And that she's a fighter

So she holds her head up high
And takes a deep breath
She tells herself...
That she'll get through this

And that she can live another day

As she trumps along
In her trek to happiness
She runs into obstacles
But that won't bring her down

The more that she experiences
The more that she will learn
That all things in life
Are just another turn

To her happiness

She realizes that maybe
The things she's been through
Have only made her better
And helped her to understand

That life is hard
And you can't just keep on sitting
And wallowing in your sadness
You have get up, no quitting

And make something beautiful out of your life

Just like a diamond
She had to go through all kinds of pressure and turmoil
To become the woman she is today

Her heart softly pulses.
It beats with love.
With compassion.
With care.
It beats stronger now than yesterday and years before.
The time when someone ripped and stabbed at it.
But it's stronger now.
It's healed those wounds and only hurts every once in awhile.
Today's a new day.
And her heart continues to pulse.
It continues to love as it once did.
Just more carefully.
But sometimes her heart isn't like everyone else's.
It doesn't understand sometimes.
It doesn't understand the kindness shown by another man and wants to reject it when that's all it has ever needed.

Perfect spheres of sweet, sweet air float in front of me.
Air that was once mine.
Now every time I breathe in, all I get is water.
And I can do nothing about it.

A block of cement is chained to my legs.
Dragging me down.
Drowning me.

I keep trying to breathe, and all I get is water.  
A mistake.
So many mistakes.

My vision is leaving me.
My lungs are so far gone and now I'm dying.
I'm dying.

Drowning.

My best friend of 15 years is sick.
He’s dying whether I want to acknowledge it or not.
He’s sick and I can do nothing about it.
He’s got blood matted onto his paws and on his mouth.
Mucus and more blood pouring from his nose.
He sneezes up so much blood on a daily basis.
It’s getting progressively worse, and all I can do is sit here, watch it happen, and take him to the vet.
This little boy isn’t so little any more, but he will always be that in my eyes.
He was and is my best friend.
He’s helped me through hell and everything in between
He’s my Ray Ray….
Some may say...he’s just a cat.
But he’s so much more than that…
So, so much more...

My hands run across the fiberglass siding
As I think of things worth hiding
The water’s warm, so inviting
The bubbles calling me to join them
I give in and slide my body in
My pallid skin shone in the moonlight
Though I feel this might not last
As my soft skin begins to prickle
I can feel the sadness washing over me
Just like the water on my legs
Its cold hands wrap around my limbs
And I can't move
This water that once welcomed me
Is now cold and menacing
I hear a voice inside of me
Telling me to slide down in
To make the pain go away
So that I may feel free
Once again

But I do not listen
For i know these feelings do not last
They only bite for a while
But soon will leave and let me be

I only have to remind myself
That the sun does come up in the morning
And the bathtub will once more be inviting
The feelings of sadness will no longer be
On my sleeve and in my skin
I only have to keep my head up
And believe that happiness is near

Which I know will eventually ring true

The moon understands me.
He’s been there every night and listened to my secrets, thoughts, and cries in the night.
The pain of the past has been dampered by his glowing smile.

The stars know me as well.
Their eyes twinkle as I gaze into them and tell them of my days and happenings.
Sometimes tears are shed and sometimes there’s a happy glimmer in my eye.

The dark void of night has also been an acquaintance of mine.
I want nothing but for it to come on nights that I feel the pain is too real, but others I never want to see the sky darken and end a marvelous day.

But daytime. Daytime is another story.

It can be my best friend or my worst enemy.
These days, I’d say my friend.
Day gives me a chance to be what I am meant to be.
To inspire and to grow in and through my experiences.

Daytime gives me hope now.
A calling to do, and to create.
I want to drink every last drop of light and let it shine through me.
I want to take day by the horns and kick ****.

Didn’t really know what this writing was supposed to accomplish in the beginning.
But now I do.
It’s a reminder to myself that I will not be taken advantage of by the sorrow of pains of the past.

It’s also a calling to do better.
To be a better person and to not have those nights that the moon and stars know my pain all too well.
To never want to the dark of night to come because I’m too busy being a light for others and myself.

I am me. And I am ready for the future and what wondrous things it holds for me.

I bite on your words as if they were a glass capsule filled with cyanide. The poison fills my body and rushes through my veins. In an attempt to get it out of my system, I wretch onto you with words just as poisonous. Blood drips from my mouth that’s now riddled with shards of your absurdity and hate. It tastes utterly awful. But I couldn’t get all of it out. It lurks in my being to this day, and I loathe it. Sometimes it hurts me more than other days, and others it feels as if it’s gone. But it always comes back one way or another, slowly killing me.

Yes, thank you for the invitation but I must decline. Your arms are less than welcoming. Yet you linger in my stomach, unwanted. It’s the smell of Bud Light on someone’s breath passing by me on the street. The sound of someone’s voice being raised, even slightly. The daunting task of speaking in front of my class when the professor calls my name. Those eyes, all on me. You are a paper cut that won’t stop bleeding, I need help stopping it, but I handle it on my own because I can’t ask for help. The words that are too hard to say and “too harsh” in my book, because maybe they would hurt? Even though I’m being honest, not rude. I can’t even stand up for myself because you make me think I could hurt their feelings. How stupid is that? You show up when I’m in need of something, but I have to ask a stranger for it, so I just don’t. I find you’ve sieged my being and put up walls that are stronger than any wall we’ve ever seen in all of American history. You walk right into the doors of my mind, without knocking. How rude, I must say. This is not what I asked for when I was given this thing, called life. I didn’t ask you to follow me through this forest of sadness that I’ve lost myself in. You, my awful companion, have overstayed your welcome. And It’s not like I’ve come to know you and your wretched name through time. I’ve known you since the beginning of my own. But now? Yes, now is the time that you must be shown the door that you disregarded. I know you’ll casually let yourself in in the future, but for now, your invitation has expired.

I used to look into the night sky and gaze at the stars.
I'd wonder what it would be like, to touch one.
Or to be up there, floating amongst those beautiful ***** of fiery light.

But tonight, there are no stars.
And I ponder about where they've gone.
I wonder how each and every one of those great specks in the sky seem to have dimmed and died away.

And I sob because of this.
I scream into the dark void of what is night, demanding that the stars return.
But they don't.

They don't return and I can't touch them.
I can't wonder what it'd be like to be floating with them.
I can't lay in the tall grass and try to count them when I can't sleep.

So, I don't sleep tonight.
I just lay still, and will them back into view.
Will them to fill my vision and mind with amazement and thoughts of complete awe.

But they don't return.

The anxiety of it all strangles me, and I can't do it any longer.
I have to shut my eyes and breath.
I can't keep worrying about this.

After what feels like an eternity, my eyelids flutter open.
And there they are.
As if they never even left.

All of them singing their songs to me.
Each one telling its story.
And my heart finally can stop beating so loudly in my ears.

Tears well up in my already wet eyes.
But this time, these are joyful tears.
Because my stars once again fill my mind and heart with wonder and contentment.

My heart is pounding in my chest, but I can’t feel it. The only reason I know it’s pounding is because I can’t breathe. I can’t feel my heart and it’s scaring me half to death. Why can’t I feel the thing that keeps me from dying??? Oh and where is my mind? No one knows because it’s always lost. My marbles were never mine in the first place. So how on earth could I lose them when they’ve already been lost? It’s a mystery to me. My feet have left me as well. I don’t know where they go sometimes and they take me to places I’d never thought I’d be. My ears have fallen off of my body and I can’t hear a thing. I pick them up off the floor, and stare at them in my pale hands. My eyes blacken and glaze over, deciding to quit working just because they feel lazy today. My lips become one, refusing to open and speak my already lost mind. The divots in my skin disappear, and I no longer have a fingerprint. I cannot be identified anymore for my fingerprint is gone and I can’t feel anything I touch. Who will know me anymore if I am not me, if I don’t have what makes me, me? My legs have forgotten how to be straight, and my knees buckle under my melancholy body. My lungs shrivel and wither like a dying rose, gasping for sunlight and air. As for my voice. I don’t have one. Where has it gone? Only God knows now.