I'm drowning.
My hands search for a grip  on the smooth surface of plastic
and I don't know what ways up or which way's down
I just know that this emptiness is surrounding me
pressing in
Its cheek up against the window panes that are so thick they block out any oxygen that might offer me a little escape from this hell that is reality and
I'm drowning
I'm drowning in my thoughts my sorrows my whole ******* life and the only thing that was certain is gone and now i've got nothing to catch me if I fall so i might as well just crack my skull at the bottom of this bottomless pit but if I do
If I do
You've already lost so much I can't leave you with another empty space to fill with the minutes and the days where nothing will be right
because your only other clutch is 3000 miles and an ocean away and even if we never got along that's too far and you mean too much because to have your heart ripped in half when your eldest is only 15 is too much for such fragile shoulders to bear and, yeah, maybe it messed me up but maybe it messed you up more
and if nothing else you're important
and maybe it's insane and maybe i'm insane and maybe some days it's all I can do to drag myself out from under the covers and pretending i'm okay is too much for me to bear
but maybe i don't need to pretend because even if this glass case exposes me to the world, bare-breasted and vulnerable even if they tear me to shreds one by one and feast off the meal that my flesh provides even if i'm drowning and it feels like i'll never be able to breathe again
if i can show the world i'm weak maybe it'll stop expecting me to be strong and maybe then it will be okay if i don't want to carry on and hiding in my closet with the blankets over my head will be deemed acceptable if not normal and maybe today's hard
and maybe tomorrow will be harder
but i cling on to the hope that one day the sun will shine again and the glass will break and I will be strong and i will be able to put myself together and wake up with a smile on my face thinking "todays gonna be a good day" and maybe that's not this year or maybe that's not next year but maybe when i get there it will be enough
maybe this will all be worth it
because i'm the shattered remains of the girl you once knew  and i'm drowning in the sea of my thoughts but i will take this tape and i will take this glue and i will peice myself together one by one and pretend to be strong for you because
you're the one who needs a hero in this hellhole of a world and I've never been up to the task but if a girl can't save her mother from drowning in the same mess then what is the point of it all.
And maybe i'm the one who's got tears on my face but if i can make those tears fill up a jar and put them on a table then maybe the way the light sparkles through them will be enough to remind me that it's not worth being sad because the world will move on and just leave me behind and it's going, going, going, it's spinning to fast it's going to far
and at any moment i might fly off but my feet are stuck to the ground because i can't leave you.

this* is the world we live in?
really?
when eating a sandwich
or not even
when holding a sandwich
can give you sixteen shots
when getting down on your knees
gives you a shot through the head
what the ****.

God had the right idea.
He should have drowned us all.

"Every cloud has a silver lining"
I wonder if I could pry it out
and see if it's kiss makes the red blossom
like I so crave?

"better" doesn't mean "good"

"it's been a while" doesn't mean "never again"

are we ever truly cured?

I don't remember the first day I saw you.
I know you were a pink little thing, though
squirming and squealing.

I can easily recall the last.
Calling it a fond memory would be far too much of an overstatment,
now.

I don't know if you want to become a stranger
or if I'm forcing you to.
But either way, its happening

If I existed closer to you
would I be able to help?

You're disgusting
A bottom feeder of the worst kind
A successful one
Who steals from those you're supposed to be close to
And kills them for so much
as following their dreams


I hate you will all my heart
And I doubt that will ever change

I've always wondered what it'd be like to run away.

The sun on my face,
The grass under my feet
A world of responsibilities
forgotten.

It sounds like heaven.

But I do not want to become a woman on the streets
covered in grime and dirt and starving.

My fairy tale does not belong here.
It is not a wish that can come true.

And yet I want it more than anything in the world.

You spoke of a garden filled to the brim,
Of beautiful foliage and a divine aroma,
Of cascades of colors and an air of grace.
But I slept too late to smell the flowers

They were probably dead all along anyways.

Here,
Come and take
My empty heart and silent soul
because to me they mean nothing
But maybe they'll mean everything to you
and If by chance they make your world better
Maybe
That will be worth something

On the surface, we're fine
We are friends, we are partners.
Who would know
that underneath that cleverly crafted facade
we're standing here, head to head
unable to move forward.

We are right and we are wrong
we can never come to an end
we can never compromise, it seems
for any little step in my direction
is far to big of one for you

you want exactly what you want
nothing more
nothing less
and anything but is something that angers you
frustrates you
and does the same for me.

You're just as guilty as I
in this deadly game of chess
but where I am willing to bend
your rigidness will cause you to break

It doesn't creep around slowly.
Everything is fine one moment,
the next it isn't.
It hits like a bus
when your back is turned.
Sometimes
you know  just before
that something's wrong

and then,
suddenly
it hits
a punch to the gut
crippling
tearing open the hole
you thought was closed
ripping it's edges larger
and larger
with each passing second

screaming isn't an option.
it never has been.
you just deal with it
breathing a little to fast,
trying to rip your thoughts away
but being dragged back in
****** in
until its all you can think about .

Most of the time people don't notice
you almost wish they would.
but when they do notice
it's even worse.

Sometimes it doesn't bother you
Often, though, it does.
When it does

Its a fear
worse than death.

I will never
be good enough

i can give you
everything
that you want

except
my heart.

Four years
Six months
Six days.

Time passes far too quickly for my liking.
The memories I want to cling to,
The memories I want to hold on to forever
Seem to fade.

Why?
Why can nothing stay as perfect as a picture
Hanging in a frame
Forever memorialized?

Fifteen years.
Six months
Eleven days.

Crying has always given me headaches,
I never liked it,
I never let myself do it
Not even then.

Why?
Why couldn’t I let myself break down
In front of Family
Who did the same?

Fifty-Nine years
Five months
Thirteen days.

That’s not nearly enough time for anyone
To live their life to it’s fullest
To tackle every thing you can
So why did it stop there?

Why?
Why couldn’t the fight go on ?
There was
So much more to do

Sixty-Three years
Eleven months
Eleven days.

It’s weird
The phases we go through.
Nothing ever really
Stays the same
Not like we want it to
Life moves on
Life is moving on
And yet
Here we stand
Stuck in the mud
Dragging the past behind us
Using it to look at the future

But
How does a bird fly
When all it’s feathers are filled with dirt?

We cannot let it go
That is proven
But it should not
Hold us back.

Get rid of the old
Get on with the new

Why is that so hard?

You are my platonic love,
My long-lost other half.
But not in the way that
First comes to mind.
You are my soulmate
My twin, my confidant,
I could spend
The rest
Of my life
With you.

But not in that way.

We are but children
Dancing to a tune we do not know
Playing our hands with strings
Attached to toys we use as puppets
And acting god.

We see a world of possibilities
The laughs
The smiles
The joy
The potential.

We take what strings we can
Hold them
Dance with them
Listen to the whirs
Of their intricate ties
The songs that sing
When they move.

But when they break,
What then?
Do we become
Inconsolable monsters
Ravaging everything in our paths,
And only looking back
Ages later
To see
Maybe
We were in the wrong?

When someone takes a string
That we held close to us
Trying to control our puppets
And theirs as well
Do we scream?
Do we fling things childishly about?

We are but children
Though we pretend to be other.

Damaged,
Broken,
Desperate children
Seeking shelter from the storm
Under tree branches.


Oh what poor fools we are.