When I was 9 years old,
I witnessed a girl with rivers of crimson,
Seeping from her arms.
She had a blood stained sheet,
Tightened around her neck,
As I heard her bloodcurdling screams,
She locked eyes with me.

I felt her eyes.
Dark and cold, and no emotion behind them.

And when I stared in the mirror at 4:38 in the morning.
I felt the same thing.

It has never left me as it has infused into my cells,
And has branded every thought,
Every sense.

I am unsure to be afraid or comforted.

Someone previously described me as damaged,
not broken,
but I have pieces scattered everywhere,
I have carved reasons why I am useless,
I have swallowed for solutions.

I've never felt so alone.
At least I know I am damaged and not broken, right?

Dear Darling, I have been haunted too many nights
By the cries and screams of those
That closely resemble myself.
Their pitch pulls at my fibers,
Slices my arteries, and beats on my ear drums.
I wake up in a cold sweat, with the fear of God in me every night.

Dear Darling,
These scars are leakage of my fears.
My blood is poisoned with the idea of regret.
Sadness encompasses and clouds my thoughts,
Creating a pessimistic view on positive situations.
Numbness pains my core, and spreads through my veins
As a cold slush.

Dear Darling,
I have not slept a full night’s sleep in over 8 years.
I am not scared of no beast,
Nor animal,
Nor man.

Dear Darling,
These monsters inhabit my mind,
and plagues my eyes with sights ungodly even for the wicked.
They close my throat,
And guide the blade to my arms.

Dear Darling,
They have stolen my sanity,
And I am in fear of what they may soon accomplish.
I don’t remember how these scars have gotten here,
But they cause my hands to shake,
and my knees to collapse
as I guide my finger tips over the scars.

Dear Darling,
Save me.

I let her hear my footsteps…
drizzle gleams in big city lights
Her perfume a’ float my senses
Peering off from this balcony,
into the vast cavern of sleeping buildings,
does she think of me…

She feels me…closer…her red dress
against the dark backdrop of
dreary skies silhouettes her beauty,
a poem waiting to be read,
a song you can’t get out of your head
or would want to

I place my arms about her waist,
she turns, ruby lips infectious,
eyes hiding her story find mine,
rain like diamond tear drops
decorate her cheeks as she smiles
and my heart is flooded with light

We embrace, damp passionate lips
lock in haunting silence,
speaking louder than any words,
all that was cold becomes warm
as moisture seeps, painting my skin,
and I don’t care

This is what love is…
a hot cup of coffee on a frigid winter day,
a cool breeze in the middle of August,
a beautiful fragrant rose
blooming from a crack in the asphalt
on that long, endless highway of life…and she is mine

Maybe I'd like to be a Homecoming Princess,
Maybe I'd like to be a Prom Queen,
Maybe I'd like to have this solo,
Maybe I'd like to have the spotlight on me.

Maybe I'd like to join a band,
Maybe I'd like to speak my mind,
Maybe I'd like to win Poetry Out Loud
                                       or
                                       anything, really...

Maybe I'd like to see,
                               hear,
                               do,
                        and be so much more,
Maybe I'd like to be like everyone else...

And maybe-not maybe- quite absolutely
I'd like to ***** panic, anxiety,
and all these stupid hinderances--
and do all of the above.

At 4 in the morning you hear nothing but the soothing music playing softly from your speakers
At 4 in the morning you see nothing but the calm undulations of your brain waves running over your eyelids
At 4 in the morning you taste nothing but the lingering mint essence of your toothpaste in the back of your mouth
At 4 in the morning you smell nothing but the    soft linen detergent from your favorite purple pillowcase
At 4 in the morning you touch nothing but the fuzzy brown teddy bear you got on your 4th birthday
At 4 in the morning he snuck in while your consciousness was altered by your sleep
He crept up the stairs and peaked into your room
Your face morphed into a pale shade of blue and a worrisome look crossed his face
He stroked your cheek as you regained your breath
He took it from you
He politely sifted through your things and turned to glance at you with those icy blue eyes
You clutched your heart and a crestfallen look usurped his smile
He rested his hand upon yours as you calmed down, right on top of your heart
He stole it from you
He sat down beside you and closed his eyes
You started to toss and turn, grabbing at your hair and a perplexed look furrowed his brow
He leaned towards you and kissed your forehead as you finally lay still with peaceful thoughts
He invaded every single one
At 7 in the morning you hear nothing but his voice whispering inside your ear "I love you"
At 7 in the morning you see nothing but the elated smile and exaggerated dimples resting on his face
At 7 in the morning you taste nothing but the flavor of his lips locked inside yours
At 7 in the morning you smell nothing but the       lingering scent of the cologne he fell asleep in
At 7 in the morning you touch nothing but the warmth of his skin as he wraps his arms around you
He may be a thief when you aren't paying attention
But he is the love of your life, at all hours of the day

The sun cheerfully rises every morning
As does my hope
Coffee flavored with a hint of ambition spiked in the liquid caramel drizzle
The curtains are drawn back
Just like my despair
Hidden beneath all of my "to-do's" and "do-later's"
A cluttered mess I hope to never sift through
Three missed called from an old enemy Depression and I'm too busy to ever call back
I crave my quotidian omelet like I crave a fulfilled life
Inside, surprises delight my enchanted taste buds
And my appetite for being alive is heightened with the spices electrifying their energetic flavors
Caffeine sparking my newfound devotion to activity and business to leave no room in my schedule for sadness

But as the sun sets every evening
My hope and beliefs are suddenly invisible in the vacantly somber sky
The stars shine like my thoughts
Ricocheting ideas in the back of my mind
Inching their way forward like the caterpillar in the cage
As the darkness sets in, my eyes adjust in a timely matter
A form of classical conditioning I picked up on early in my life
My irises only responding to the anchors holding me down
I vent to the moon all night about my confusion and unhappiness
And it laughs at my tears, begging for me to "wait and see" when the sun comes up
But I hone in on the negativity surrounding me like the pictures of him and the music of the crooks in the night
We aren't all bad people for feeling this way
To choose a side is to choose night or day
To choose a connotation for my life
My autonomic response is negative

Night and day are merely metaphors for life
And every aspect I experience on a daily basis
It's enough insanity to drive my car off the cliff at night
Only to rise to the top and reverse it all in the morning
Waiting around to make your own sunshine in the world of darkness is complex and seemingly impossible
To fall to an impasse or to rise against?
Ask me in the afternoon how I feel
And I may end up letting you know
I am a night owl
No matter how hard it hurts me