to attempt to preface you
would require the assistance of
the entirety of the languages in the world.

there simply isn't a single way to preface how
your eyes will look when the light of a summer sunset slices across the park
the way your arms will feel on a chilly winter night in front of a coffee shop
the sound of your giggle and the expression of horror that dawns on you as you realize what you sounded like
my heart races and face flushes when you direct your considerable amount of focus onto me
or even how someone so lovely can suddenly slip into silence
when whatever thoughts that have been flowing
are suddenly too much
and you power down.

to attempt to preface you
would be a foolish endeavor;
however, I'll try anyways,
for what is an epic tale
without an introduction?

my stomach is churning
i am awake
it is dark
(i can see, though,
my skin is on fire).

there's an unprecedented displeasure
amounting inside me
clawing
thrashing
biting
and the discomfort it causes
is nearly unbearable
as i roll over in the dark
that i can actually see in
because my flesh is aglow with torrid light.

i wish there was something i could do
to keep you here
(safe
warm
willing
happy).

i wish i knew the secret to so many things
so i could make you
laugh
stare
come closer
smile.

i wish i could lie to you,
tell you it's all okay,
tell you it never happened,
it was just a dream, a dream, a dream--
a nightmare where the monsters were fake,
the things crawling inside you, threatening
to spill out and overtake your heart are fake.
(they're fake, darling, they're fakefakefake.)

i wish i could tell you you're
everything you think you're not
(silly
funny
awe-inspiring
beautiful).

but you're not here.
my arms are empty where they once held you.

I have never been to war. I have never seen another human being keel over in pain, bleeding and sobbing and crying out for the pain to stop as the result of my own hand. I have never held a real gun, a bomb, a knife, or any other weapon meant to maim or ****. I have never held contempt great enough for another human being that would cause me to end their life. I have never seen someone die.

     However, I have been in pain. My hair has been pulled, my face punched, my legs kicked, my arms bitten. I have been scratched and bruised and sore. I have been hurt. I have been stepped on, hit by passing masses, fallen down hills, scraped and ****** and broken and shaken to the core. I have shed many tears.

     I have seen people in true pain. I have heard the wails of a girl who cannot move, her spine so encased by scar tissue that her legs give her grief beyond measure. I have watched people grow weak and frail and thin and sickly. I have seen bruises bloom beneath their skin and tears fall from their eyes and their fists clench and turn white with strain. I have seen them curl up on the floor, life and light draining from their eyes. I have heard their cries for their lives to end.

     I may not have seen much, but I have seen a lot.

can you hear those whispers?
silk over sand, breathless and beautiful;
a cold comfort, laden with loveliness.
they sound rather lonely.

i cannot give you much more than i already have.
words and smiles,
conversations and pictures,
an invisible hand to guide you out of the dark.
i hope it's okay with you
that all i can give
are the simple things in life --
little things that often mean nothing
but can mean much more when coming from someone who has nothing else.
i hope that's all right,
that i cannot give you any more than i already have.

before:
            my mind was a sanctuary,
                  decked out in ugly green carpet
                        with beautiful stained glass windows that
                              allowed the myriad of multicolored light in
                                   to dance among the wooden pews
                                          and to highlight the swaying dust
                                                that descended as the ***** thrummed
                                                      and voices were raised to sing out our hearts
                                                            in unison.
            I took your hand and drew you in with a smile
                  and a promise and we felt the warmth of the sunshine
                        and the peace of mind that accompanied
                              being with someone you trust.

      after:
           it's cold and damp and undisturbed
                 and you can hear water dripping in the distance.
     the carpet's faded and it smells of mold
           and the pews have long since weakened,
                 cracked, split, and crumpled to the ground.
     the dust no longer sways in rhythm with our breath
           and the windows shattered into billions of
                 glittering, dark, ugly jewels, long faded to dark reminders
                       of days that once were.
     the ***** was partially stolen and
           now you only see a few rusted pipes
                 hovering above the platform from the wall.
     your feet leave prints on the swampy mess
           that was once the floor the one time you take a peek in.
     I trace them with ***** hands after you leave,
           unable to believe someone even bothered to enter.

now I'm pulling back
      to the tattered place that used to glow
            to tuck my quiet misery into its bed.
and I hope (oh, how I hope)
      you can find me among the
            musty old wood and
                  once-bronze pipes
                        and shards of technicolor glass.
I'm hoping you'll come around again
      and relieve me of my misery for good.




                                                               (or maybe
                                                               you'll just help me move on
                                                               from the quiet misery that plagues my sleep,
                                                               my steps, my speech, my soul,
                                                               and find something else--
                                                               untouched, shimmering--
                                                               leaving some footprints of my own as I move towards
                                                               another place just as beautiful as the first
                                                               to house my thoughts and dreams anew.)