"you are so strong"

my eyes stared into nothing,
burning with the absence of tears.
i knew there would be a point
where i could not cry anymore.

what was everyone seeing?
because all i felt was weakness,
pain,
emptiness.

my exterior was bruised and beaten
but only inside could i feel the effects.
i was not strong
i was fragile,
scared,
and vulnerable.

frustrated by words of praise
i sank deeper into my delusions,
and perfected my 'brave face'.
i was not strong
i was struggling.

listening to the vital carts
wheel in and out,
my door never a separation
but a portal to demons
wielding gurneys,
needles,
charts and machines.
i was restless in my immobility.
i was not strong
i was numb.

calling for my mother at 4:00 am
she carried my weight,
she held my hand,
she washed my hair,
she changed my clothes,
she slept, barely,
at my feet.
i was not strong
my mother was.

days piled on;
hours lost in isolation
maddening my mind
and diminishing my willpower.
with every test,
measurement,
and procedure
i felt helplessness
swallow the living light in me.
still, i complied,
i waited,
i did what was asked.
i was not strong
i was a quiet fire.

looking at my damaged body,
examining my inflamed veins.
my face was swollen,
my hair matted.
i shook in my skin
disassociating my identity.
i was not my condition
i was not my self disgust.

i can not say that i feel better
just different,
which is neither positive or negative.
reflecting on 10 days as a ghost
getting acquainted with myself,
filling in the blanks.
i was not strong
i was surviving.

I see now that I kept asking for your attention in some desperate validation that maybe one day you would see me the way I saw myself with you; as a partner.

It was easy to believe we were working when I thought I had something to fix, but then someone told me I was not broken to begin with.

I waited and wasted so much time and energy working at your at your impossible process, but I can no longer be romantically employed.

I love you, but I do not love the way you have me trained. I comply with your  terms and regulations and never complain.

You are so good at finding ways to keep me in line, but this contract you keep presenting is something I never signed.

Trading “I love yous” like playing cards
in the backseat of my car
and my hand doesn’t look very promising.
They say you gotta know when to hold ‘em,
know when to fold ‘em,
but I am always walking away
when I should stay
and vise versa,
I just don’t want to hurt you.

This game we have been playing
is fixed and unfair
and you have some tricks
up your sleeve,
I can tell.
And I can skip my turn
but I can’t leave.
You must think I am
a joker for the way I keep
breaking my poker face.
I can’t help it,
you’re just so good at this.
My heart sinks every time
you ask me what I have to give,
because I would go all in for you
if it was worth the risk
but at the end of each round
all I can say is “go fish”.

You were born like a bullet from a gun with that much tenacity and silver in your blood/ a baby girl given to a world and a family too eager to end/ fated to live a life filled with fear/ you had courage and a set of arrows in your arsenal/  in a small town you found friendship in girl hidden within herself/ and loved a boy with golden eyes and good intentions/ you were scared but you were happy and fell into his arms along with harms way/ little did you know your stay would soon soil in tragedy and grief/ before you even had the chance to graduate/"Can't I be strong and go to prom?"/ an angel among demons/ you fought like Hell against the darkness that claimed the hearts of your mother/ your aunt/ your grandfather/ where was the loyalty when your loved ones left you for dead?/ a young huntress grasping for her chance to maintain the matriarchy and still keep peace/ everything you were taught had to be abandoned in order to protect your friends/ your friends, the only family that ever felt like home/ and they looked to you for strength/ they came to you in strife/ they clung to you in danger/ you heard the screams of your best friend pierce the night more than you heard her laughter/ you remember how she told you to smile/ you remember how she taught you to hold on to better parts of yourself/ you hear your father tell you he is proud/ he is so proud of you and all that you have sacrificed/ but you had no choice/ there was never an option or an exit sign glowing in the distance/ you stuck to your morals with persistence/ "we protect those who cannot protect themselves"/ but tell me who exactly was protecting you?/ the heroine of the hysteria/ the knight in all her honor/ who died in the arms of a man/ at the hands of another man/ i will never forget you and i will never understand/ you were everything that we needed/ i will not see your image ******

There are good places
where your mind can go
and there are city parks
where little gardens grow
and there is safety
in phone calls
to your best friend
and there is more than
just one way
in which a heart can mend
and bravery can be the days
when you leave your bed
and strength can be
the times when you say
what is in your head
if you feel scared to be alone
and like Hell has become your home
there are people
and there are places
that will help you to feel better
just give me your address
and i will send you letters
your mental health is important
and your feelings matter
pay attention to the cracks
before you completely shatter

I am watching manufactured rainbows dance
across familiar basement walls.
And on the floor,
there are littered flecks of light
racing around my feet
to the rhythm of tonight's jam band.

And I am missing you.
And I am missing nobody in particular.
I am just missing a part of me.
I don't think I have found it
yet,
but I feel this void.

We all talk about feeling complete.
Maybe we all
have it in us.
There are strangers moving
next to me,
and sometimes we trade
smiles or cigarettes
but I am growing tired
of their empty trance glances.

I'm still hoping that you answer this.

North of somewhere,
cradled by the coast of the Atlantic,
is a place where the world
has pressed pause.
This seasonal paradise
seems abandoned,
preserved under the pretense
that summer will return soon.

Frozen,
in winter and in time
the seaside town waits patiently.
The salty shores continue in community.
Vacancy signs glow in windows,
stores apologize for being closed.
Littered remnants of past visitors
sit silently in the snow.
We walked the streets like ghosts
returning to an unfamiliar home.
The locals carry on with their routines
while others cling to summer dreams.

Fantasy and adventure will resurface
as the ice begins to thaw.
Life renews with ocean views
and a reality so raw.