"It gets better."
Her words still play
In the back of my mind
Every time that song plays
And I can feel the
Room around me.

Those words are stitched
Into my brain like
My mom told me never
To allow needles to tattoo me.
But it's okay.
Because my life isn't over
And this is just high school
The world isn't crumbling down
At least not on all sides.
I have something to
Hold on to.

"It gets better."

"This is just a road block. A delay in success."
I remember the day she first told me that.
And how I couldn't help but smile.
No, this isn't it for us.
One day she will hold my hand again.
And I'll be able to kiss her with people watching.
Who knows, maybe we'll wear white
As our loved ones watch us kiss.

I don't know much.
But I know that this situation
Will not last forever.
And I know we will be together
Again, one day.

"This is just a road block. A delay in success."

You are a horrible man
And I hate you
I hate what you do to her
You are pathetic
And I feel nothing for you
Other than pure hatred
***** pitying you
You don't deserve my pity
Like you don't deserve the love
She is always going to have
For you in some way.

I don't know who decided
That "daddy issues" were hot
Because I have seen the
Girl of my dreams break down
Before me because of you
And it has me worried
Every
Single
Night
That I will see her the next day
And she will be bruised and beaten
And there will be nothing
I
Can
Do
About
It
Because
All
She
Wants
Is to be
Anything
But like
*You.

"Everything happens for a reason."
It's this broken record in my head
Repeating those words like
They are all I'm ever going to need.
Right now that is all I really do
Because she got out of that house
If only for a few months
And she is getting the help
That she needs and deserves.
So, yes, I believe that
Everything happens for a reason.

She cannot speak or see me
Until she gets better and
I'm okay with that for right now.
Because that's what we both need
And I've got something,
Anything, to hold onto.

"Everything happens for a reason."

I want to tell you not to make my mistake.
I want to tell you not to build walls. You pick up brick by brick, hiding yourself in the structure you've created. You feel safe until you realize you are left alone, trapped in the cage you built to be a home, standing in darkness and suffocating among walls that won't reach out to help you.
I want to tell you I understand.
I want to tell you that I often draw up blueprints for my home. When the world gets too close to me, I sketch tall ceilings above strong walls. I plan elaborate architecture. I sketch large windows that allow for sun-drenched rooms and put details on tall towers until I have a magnificent mansion, knowing all along that it's just a clever disguise for the cage I must never let myself enter. Once you go in, it's very hard to break down the walls.
I want to tell you to give up your bricks.
I want to tell you that you will feel better when you let them go. When things are hard, your hands will twitch until you grab your drafting pen, you'll still set out sheets of paper and start thinking about your walls, but you'll feel better knowing you're only making plans. I know the bricks are heavy, but you don't have to move them alone. I want to tell you to ask for help.
I want to tell you to let Him carry them away.
I want to tell you to let them go.
I want to tell you to stop pretending.
I want to tell you everything will be okay.
I hope you can hear me through your walls.
I don't think you can.

You cannot give me thorns and expect roses in return.