If something offends you
Say something
Don't assume it's obvious
Don't stew over it until
You want nothing more to do with me
Just say something
Because not only did I lose you
I lost all of them  
And you're all fine
That's great
But I'm still here    
And I'm not fine
Instead I'm still awake
Imagining how things might have been
If you had only
*Said something

When two siblings broke away
their parents slowly faded    
Reuniting only for two funerals
they split their lands and went their ways    
The children, young and observant,
Watched and saw and learned
The conflict continued a generation later
And fingers pointed to her.  
Her head had slowly lowered
Her hair fell past her eyes
Her smile only served her
As a crude disguise
They scolded her and warned her
if she didn't change her ways
that all of those around her
would slowly turn away
but as the words slipped past their mouths they stuttered in dismay
the little girl they learned to hate
had already gone away.

Stories told to children,
Deceitful promises of a beautiful future
When the child is introduced to the
Stark disappointment of reality,
What can we expect?

Indecision-
It has plagued me for near two decades;
And then, with frivolous concerns.

Which restaurant?
Which color?
What matter?
It doesn't.
It didn't.

And now
Now I am presented with this;
Preserve memory?
Or preserve perseverance?

Many will scoff,
'What use is memory without perseverance?'
Yet what is the point of persevering
Sans memories?

Over the years I've been stripped
Of hopes
Of dreams
Of the very life force that doesn't exist.

Throughout all things,
I've retained my memories.

I am the memories I keep.

My whole being balances for
the songs we sang
the people I've known
the stories I've heard
and the trials I've thrown.

Subtract these and you are left with an emptied carcass
A hollowed branch or
Dry-rotted root;

Others may see their past glory
But the carcass
The branch
The root
Are nothing more that memories

And what are memories
To the memoryless?

How miserable humanity is.
How unimpressive our miniscule feats.
How can we possibly proceed to progress,
When our brothers we leave in the streets?

It gets steadily harder to breathe
And I want to turn and leave
But those that keep me alive
Would be distraught
If I died.

White walls
White walls
So near to the end
If I struggled a bit more      
I could be free again

Free to run
Free to dance
Not just sitting
In a trance
Staring at all these
White walls.

What do you do
When relationships
Fall through?
When even your
Family wishes you
Would just do
it.
How do I go on
Trudging along                  
Alone in a house
That's no longer a
Home?
Why do I still try
Not to cry
Not to flinch
While all those around me
go on even when I do?          
I used to say
"I matter forever"
Cuz I "matter to me"
But when was that?
What, and
When, and
How, and
Why?

Aching of loneliness
Hollow as isolation,
Guilty of weakness
Bubbled in distress

Nothing is wrong with me.
Everything is wrong with me.
My family is healthy.
There is a roof over my head.
I have never wanted anything.
Except, of course, to be dead.

You know that feeling of infinite loss
The sense of suspended reality?
The notion of going unnoticed
Alone, in a crowd?
I dream of that feeling, of not feeling at all
As I prepare for my ultimate fall.

You can hear all the pep talks
You can try something new
But nothing can soothe the crush
Of discovering that your best is not enough

Help.
Why is that so difficult?
How can four letters freeze my tongue
And quicken my heart?
What about that deserves the power to shut me up and crumble again?
Help.

You aren’t used to me being away from home.
I could say the same about you.
You call and act normal.
There’s nothing normal about change.
You don’t tell me, but it’s apparent.
I know.

My mind is everywhere and nowhere
So close to nothingness
It would have
Could have
Ended right there

I made friends but haven't gotten them, you see
So I'm just alone with me
Until the sun comes back up and duty calls
I make an appearance as the quiet one
Nod my head a few times, crack a pun
I'm there but not really there
Then it all ends and I'm done
I slink back to the dark of my alone
Me and my mind
My mind and me
Forever and always that's how it will be

Yellowed paper
Scrawling script  
An art form from my childhood  
The riddles and rhymes
Now remind me of times
Of happiness, wonder, and bliss.

Hope is a curse
It is the tourist that always sees the green flash
Yet no matter how often you stare, it is never there

Dogs are so loyal
So happy and free
Their joy is contagious
Even to me

I bit those traitorous lips,
Cursing silently the ****** honesty.
Nervously tracing my fingertips
Along the seams of the faded jean.
Averting my eyes, I try and disguise
My fear as pure disgust.
But try as I might, I can not fight        
The bubbling sense of mistrust.        
                                          
I try to calm my quivering nerves
By breathing slow and sure
But nothing can quench
My shivering rage
I can not find a cure.

My world has spun out of control
And nothing is within my reach.
There is nothing I can do
But allow the law to sweep me away.
                                                  
I tried and failed to my dismay
But to my parents' glee.
And to all the others
That attempted to help me.

The man they paid for me to trust
So rapidly turned away
It's just his job but still I felt
As if I'd been betrayed.

Unwillingly I lift my gaze          
To linger on the wall
Where once, before, I stood            
Quietly alone, but tall.
I feebly resent the way I feel
So overwhelmingly small.

In writing the note, you must
explain yourself-
A feat I have yet to accomplish in life;
Express your undying gratitude
towards the few you loved-
Which I can only hope I have done well;
And apologize for shattering the hearts
of the ones who dared love you back.

And quite frankly
I will never be that skillful with
a pen.

How are you?

"Okay"            What's wrong?

"Good"             Just good?

"Fine"              What happened?

There is never a correct answer.

I want to suspend
Like stars in a planetarium
Or jellyfish in the ocean
Just be moved by gentle motions or violent starbursts
Never exert energy and never think
Just be
Feeling without thought an ideal
Thought butchers feel
I may drift into sleep
And all will be looming when I wake
Tomorrow
And tomorrow
And tomorrow ever after

Tug of war with sleep and sight
I revert to childhood
Refusing submission to heavy lids
My eyes crave colors and light

Seeking help and telling truths
are only a beginning.
It's much more difficult to be frank
And allow a leap of faith
Here, have my soul and please,
don't share it or tear it?
It's happened before and now
I'm hopelessly helplessly stuck.
****.

I've constructed a highway
Over years and years
I've spent time blazing forward
Not daring to turn back
Mile after mile of groundwork
I've laid my track
and now that I've fallen I turn and I see
I've built no platform to save me from me

I've been long removed from myself
Busied by this
Distracted with that
Hoping I've come to terms with myself
I glance into the mirror
And I crumble into 46 pieces
Each one more indistinguishable than the next
I am afraid and alone and afraid
So I am not okay
And it's not okay
But that doesn't change anything
Because I can't be okay
I haven't the time or the energy to spend being anything less than fine
I'm a mess
And not in the I-have-2-huge-papers-due-Monday sort of way
But more like the miserable worthless emptiness is all consuming and I feel too much and none of it is worth feeling
And I'm questioning the little bits that I had chosen to cling to so desperately
I am unsure and confused and terrified
Alone and afraid and alone
It's this vicious cycle of trying to be with people, being with people and feeling like an unnecessary presence, nodding my head dumbly without contributing anything of value to the interaction, then returning to my alone with an even further degraded feeling
I am hurt and it is hard
And I have been told that I am strong
I do not feel strong
I feel very weak and helpless and hopeless and scared. I am a child alone in the darkness shaking from the nightmare that I can't wake from
I try to be strong and supportive
I help other people as much as I can, I try to give and give and give and I am empty but I feel so I keep on giving what I don't have and I'm drained and hollow and I still need to keep giving because what if I stop what if I stop I can't stop giving because then what would happen I would cease to be and that terrifies me I can't stop but I can't continue and I am alone and afraid and I have people that care about me and that makes me feel one million and three percent worse about myself because for whatever reason there are people that give a **** about me and I love them for that but couldn't they just not care at all wouldn't that be easier if no one cared at all????? My feelings do not align with my thoughts. I know one thing and feel all the others. I hurt and I hurt and I feel and it is striking. I want to make beauty out of this muck that I so rarely allow myself to acknowledge. People have made beauty and colors from this emptyness then here I am with my head full of snot and the salt tracks sticky on my face as I'm breathing through my mouth which I hate and I just type nonsense into this meaningless emptiness and I stop. I'm hurting and I hate it. Other people are hurting and I hate it. The world is hurting and I don't understand how everyone doesn't hate it. I say hate too often, it's a word best reserved for Hope. Hope is the ******* that deprives in the same breath with which it revives. I **** its promise of future as surely as it damns me.

Rewind replay review and freeze:
The only thing common was the disappearance of me
Gone from the moment
Nothing but space
Held breath
Frozen
gulping for time

i didn’t see it coming
they broke down a barrier
years in the making
as it stands now
nothing would keep me
from pressing the blade
deep into my skin
for once i’d succeed
if ever i freed myself
from this bed

to the author, in the light of day:

this is real.
the pain, the strain,
the loss - sans gain;
so many words
I here congeal,
I swear to you
that this is real