A walking contradiction;
I do not want anyone to be dependent
upon me.
Yet, when no one needs me
I collapse.

Here I am, trying to convince the world,
trying to convince you,
trying to convince myself, that
I am fine.
A three-word sentence that hides the pain;
not from oneself but from watching eyes.
My troubles stack one on top of the other
forming a skyscraper that burdens me.
Each day it grows bigger and taller
until it collapses
as did the towers on 9/11,
as it does right on top of me.

These bruises and scars on my skin
help me remember,

"Yes,


I am still alive."

We used to say in the beginning
how it felt like such a dream.
Though, somehow
somewhere along our journey,
it turned into a nightmare.
The memories of us together,
I’ve now hidden.
Yet, I know where to find them
and sometimes I find myself
flipping through an album
of moments captured in time,
a reminder that at one point it was
most definitely a dream
and not just a night terror.

I have never understood why people
fear death.

To me, death is like a simple
"good-night"
that one never wakes up from.

This black hole to nowhere
appears underneath me
from out of the blue
just to swallow me whole.

The longer I fall
the less I can see
the faster it gets
before I am consumed
e n  t   i    r     e      l       y
to the darkness.

*I am my own savior, yet I cannot save myself.

A force stronger than gravity
pushing down.
Stumbling,
reaching out,
unable to find purchase;
Falling,
falling,
falling...
but does it ever end?

How beautifully melancholic is it
that the person
who makes our whole world
also holds the power
to tear it
d

o


w



n

I'd much rather hear
your lonely silence,
seemingly with no end,
rather than
your empty words,
which never held any sort of value
to you




nor to myself

anymore...

In this society,
you cannot be at peace with who you are.
You must always find something wrong
with your biological makeup
and every choice that has shaped your personality.

They say, "love yourself,"
yet shame and call those who do narcissists.
Well,
I chose to separate myself from this hypocrisy.

I am beautiful,
I am clever,
I am funny,
I am not perfect,
I am me.

I chose to accept all of it;
the ups and the downs,
my vices and virtues,
every single experience I have in life
that will help me grow
into who I am becoming.

**** society,
**** the media,
and *******.

Head to heart
is as
trainer to animal.
I've always been able to tame
the wild creature in my chest
with logic and reason.
Although,
when it comes to you,
the ***** is a feral beast.
Just one glance
and my heart pumps so viciously,
that it escapes the bone cage
made up of my lungs
and runs free;
wild and untamable.

Oh,
how easy is it for me to simply
forgive the hurt
you caused my soul to endure;
Forgetting
is a whole different matter though.
You must have me under your spell,
for when you’re next to me
I forget every wrong doing you've done,
but as soon as you leave,

every

single

thing

comes down upon me.
Like a wave crashing angrily upon the shore
when the sea is storming;
Like getting caught in a sudden downpour
that drenches and chills you to the bone.
These things I can’t forget
climb into my mouth
and slither down my throat;
keeping my lungs from filling with air
and keeping the heartbreaking sobs in.

I always find myself
in the same frustrating predicament.
There’s something my heart wants,
though my brain can’t figure out what it is.
It’s like a wild goose chase;
My mind thinks it’s on the right track
My heart seems to agree,
then my pursuit comes to an abrupt halt
and my heart runs away maniacally laughing.

I am a night owl,
a lone wolf
always howling at the midnight moon.

The sun sets
as the people do too
and Darkness comes to caress the minds
of those still holding on
to consciousness.
Many are plagued, violated
by the shadowy tendrils reaching out
to stroke the thoughts of the sentient.

However, I embrace Darkness
as though I would a lover.
Together we maneuver through my mind,
no area left untouched,
yet every scenario and possibility
touched on.

And when the first rays of sun
try to peak from around the curtain,
I somberly say, "So long," to Darkness
and then let Sleep cradle
my unconscious mind.

I feel myself slipping.
The ground slowly crumbles
from beneath me
to swallow me whole;
into that dark abyss once more.
I know it’s coming for me.
I can’t escape it.
My legs are full of lead,
too heavy to lift;
weighing me down
and helping me fall faster
to rock bottom once more.

There is more romance in a simple coffee stain
than there is in a single bone from my body.

I try to not to feel lonely
when you're talking to your friends,
a huge smile on your face,
laughter coating the words you speak,
your eyes crinkling like they do
when you're overjoyed about something.

I try not to feel self conscious
when you don't touch me like you used to.
You no longer hold me to your chest
like I'm something precious from a dream,
which you desperately try to cling on to.
You never look at me,
at my body,
with stars in your eyes
and fire at your fingertips.

I try to not feel jealous when I see you
with a glowing screen accenting your plump lips,
which are smirking at an irrelevant post,
but that I want kissing my own.
And those eyes of yours I've gotten lost in
too many times to count,
focusing solely on your 3x5 screen,
with me wishing, hoping, praying
you'll look at me again with even just an ounce
of the love we had.

I try not to be selfish
when I ask how your day was
listen to your, "It was absolute ****," rant
and then wait into the early hours of the morning
for you to ask me if I'm alright.



Because I'm not.....

Your brown eyes
fill my gut with butterflies
fluttering their wings violently,
they render me silent-ly
I would gaze at you from afar,
but now we've progressed
we're getting drinks at the bar.
This pitter-patter in my chest
keeps increasing it's pace,
especially when your face
is so close to my own.
Perspiration builds on my skin,
yet I'm calmed by the scent of your cologne.
I just want my heart to win
this round of heart versus head
because the beginnings are so sweet,
yet it's the end that I dread.

I’m riding this roller coaster
called life,
but the highs
are losing frequency,
and the lows
keep getting lower.

That day was a penultimate beginning of the end.
She had known it too
somewhere deep inside,
but it threatened to compromise her “happiness.”
So, she chose to disregard it completely,
although seemingly ridiculous notions
already started swirling through her mind.
Anxiety began to bubble up and
s
p
i
l
lllll  over.
Her locked away thoughts and feelings
ate away even more at her festering heart.
Then, it ended.
Slowly, so slowly,
she healed; returned to normal.
The scars are still there,
but she stands stronger than before.

"You're better off without him."
"You could do so much better."
"You deserve better than that."

Better,
better,
better.

I don't need,
I don't want
anyone's sympathy.
Take your pity party elsewhere
to someone who cares
for the attention.
Because I need space
to contemplate.

My exes have probably heard
the same spiel too,
"You're better off without her."
"You could do so much better."
"You deserve better than that."

Better,
better,
better.

But,
what if they are
the ones who could do better
than me?

They idly sit upon my shelves;
Some collecting dust from years of neglect,
others with tears, stains, or crinkles
adorning their once pristine, white pages.
There are a select few I revisit frequently.
Yet, most are still strangers to me.
These are my only friends,
though I’m positive if they could sprout legs,
they would leave me too.

What makes it so easy
to write personal works
from the heart,
the soul,
the inner workings of my mind
that then you, strangers,
read at your own will,
like, and comment?
Things I cannot even bring myself
to admit to those closest to me
or even yours truly.
The fact baffles me each time
I start typing.