I hope one day I can glide my hand across the pages of my story and confidently say as I close the book,
"It was a good read."

I drop the keys on the counter
and I am ready to tell you everything there ever was about me.

Things that flit through my mind so fast I only remember them
When my mind has nothing better to do
and still they are gone in an instant.

I can feel the muscles release in my body and as I lay here
With my mind numb from all the previous encounters I've had and I still only have one wish.

A wish I have desired ever since I was young and I think I will continue to do so when my bones are so old they are about to break
and that would be that I still wish there was a way to communicate a feeling through a feeling, without speaking a single word.

There are just some feelings you can't describe by words and some ways my brain can't form the sentences to tell you what I want to say.

Just wish you could feel this,
The exact way I feel it.

Settle down little thoughts,
You have troubled me through another night.

You ran around endlessly screaming gibberish,
Worried about the next day we have to struggle through.

Like little children tugging on my brain
Poking, prodding,
Peeking around corners waiting to show themselves.
Laughing and playing innocently but I can't help but feel
mocked.

I am sick of playing hide and... surprise!
I am exhausted and you all are tearing down the only home you have to live in little by little.

My mind is turning to pebbles and dust
But the thoughts
just
won't
stop.

I breathe in the smell that lingers on my pillow in the mornings before I have to begin my day.
Before I have to leave every comfort that is laced within these sheets.
The safety that I am wrapped in by my warm blankets,
I breathe it in.

The smell of my home, my own smell nestled within it faintly,
Almost like picturing myself laying on a window seat peering out
With trees that tap on the window.
An annoying scrape against the glass pane
Bringing me back to reality.

Now I must leave with one final breath inward
To be able to make it today.

So many dead inside.
Scraping up the left over remnants of their hearts.
Like melted wax that dripped down their rib cage.
We scratch off what has dried onto our bones
Desperate to try to make another candle heart to burn.