when you hear your alarm go off the first time,
and then the second time,
and the third you finally open your eyes to
find yourself surrounded by the same four walls as yesterday -
it's okay if you press snooze again.
it's okay to go back to bed today.

but you don't.

when you're putting on your mascara,
and then your eyeliner,
and all the other crap that makes you feel pretty -
it's okay if you cry it all off.
it's okay to go back to bed today.

but you don't.

when you're putting on your favourite jeans,
and your comfy sweater,
and they just don't fit the same as they used to
because you're not the same as you once were -
it's okay to try something different.
it's also okay to just go back to bed today.

but you don't.

when you're walking down the hallway to your first class,
and then your second one and it's all just as dreadful,
and you can't concentrate on anything other than
just picking up one foot after the other, just getting there -
it's okay to just be present physically for today, if that's all you can manage.
but maybe, it would be okay if you just went back to bed today.

but you don't.

when you get home and your mom calls you for dinner,
once, twice, and three times,
but you're just not hungry and you're not sure you can
keep up the stone face you've been wearing all day -
it's okay to ask her to save some for you to have later.
just go back to bed, just give yourself some room to breathe.

but  you don't.

every day, you fight the same battle.
and if it feels like you're not making any progress,
just remember that you didn't go back to bed -
and you could have -

**but you didn't.

where do you go?
when all the doors have been slammed in your face,
when you  hold on just a second too long,
and you're dragged in by the undertow
in such a deadly embrace,
where do you go?

when your eyes have drained of passion -
the kind that drove you to the fight you never forfeit,
when you lose all you love, and everything you know
where does your broken heart take you then?
where do you go?

when your panic room is exactly how it sounds,
no longer built for safety but for keeping
all your darkness contained within,
letting madness ensue underneath your skin
where the shadows have no bounds.
where do you go?

when you're lost, but you know the feeling
and you know exactly where you are, cause
when in this deadly embrace,
is where we find ourselves -
hiding.

I wanted to write about how much I loved
the way your fingers move quietly down your guitar
as it gently weeps, but I could only remember the way
those same hands left bruises on my body
and left me sobbing at 2am.

I tried to write with ink how  much I missed you,
but I scribe only with spilled blood.
This is what it was, and always will be.

Strum you do, on your guitar so lovingly
and my heart strings too - more reckless with each beat.
Raise the tempo, my heart rate too.

I want to forgive,
and forget the way this music used to move us,
but my love,
I ******* hate you.

No one wants to see you when it's the middle of the night and you're on the phone with your mother, fighting because you moved out of the country and there are no gun laws here and you're scared.

She says "come on, you've proved your point, come home. Come home"
And you look over at him and he's asleep with one hand resting on your thigh and you know you've never seen anything so great in your life,
So you take a deep breath, say goodbye, and hang up for the night.

Your mother doesn't understand this because he's not the kind of love you scream from the roof tops.
He's the kind of love that's quiet and unassuming, the kind that tucks you in at night, kisses your forehead, then works to fill in the cracks others have left in you.
He's the kind of love you follow across the ocean silently,
The kind of love where it's four am and you're tracing his spine with your lips, even though you've got to be up at 6.
The kind of love where you wake up in the morning and he's not there, but even so, every rise and fall of your chest is saying "I love you, I love you".

He's the kind of love where when he says "let's move to California", you feel like you're drowning in the Pacific Ocean, but you still don't want to learn to swim.
He's "wake me up before you go" and whispered conversations at 5 am.
He's the kind of love that overwhelms you because you've somehow managed to push almost everyone who's ever tried this away. By the time you realize, you're already in too deep, it's like a tidal wave and you're drowning (again).

He is going to your grandmothers house and playing Rock Paper Scissors, holding your feet and letting you win at thumb wars, while she watches and shakes her head because you're too old for these games. (She's secretly never seen you happier).
He is somehow falling in love deeper between those overstuffed cushions and shy looks,
He's waking up half way across the bed, watching as half an hour later he's somehow made it over to you with his arms around you and his head on your chest and you've never been happier that a thing like gravitational pull exists.

So when your mother tells you to come home for the five hundredth time, take a deep breath and remember that no one wants to see you sobbing in the middle of the night, but he would wake up if you said his name quietly enough.

what happened to you that burned
a fire in your gut, you look
like you breathed in a forest fire
overnight an forgot how to
exhale anything but ash and dust.
you look to be in pain, like
your lungs are rubbing together
like two pieces of sandpaper.
I can see you need help
to put yourself out, but
I can't get too close
without burning myself.

clever boy, honest heart
a voice of well kept notes, and an unsound mind
in grieving, in loss you sang
never silenced, always tested
songbird, keep on singing.
string each note together as you always have
in beauty and even darkness, you sang
so full of love and life
songbird, keep on singing.
clever boy, broken heart
composing music, but never yourself
songbird, keep on singing
and hiding behind your art.

I fell in love with someone who gave me everything.
He held me closer than I'd ever known, and right there - breathing in his musk, I was not afraid. I was indestructible.
But he didn't love me, and it broke my heart.
People are not safe havens.

I fell in love with someone who took everything.
He left me empty-handed, but with a few scars to show for it. The apologies came in fistfuls, and my forgiveness never did.
He loved me, and it broke my heart.
But people are not prisons, either.

I've had to try and fail at love in a million ways, but you learn to fall apart gracefully.
People are just people,
and you are in control of your life.