People keep asking me how I’m doing.
If I’m getting better or if I’ve taken the time to process what’s happened.
If I’ve sought professional help for the metal percussions induced by my career-ending injury.

In all honesty though, professional help is futile. It can’t save me now.
I’m walking through hell and sitting in a ring of fire discussing the temperature of the searing flames would be idiotic.

Why would I allow the flames to dance along my already seared skin longer than necessary?
I know they’re hot.
I know I’m in hell.

I know the pain I feel every day is real and crippling.

Talking about this pain wouldn’t end it. It wouldn’t diminish the heat. It wouldn’t help.

I need to keep walking.
I just need to keep walking.

My crippled body can’t run anymore, but I’ve got to keep walking.

Others continue to rush by. Frantic because they’ve never felt the flames.
They aren’t familiar with the burn. The idea of being in hell is novel.

They are novices.  

But life hasn’t been kind to me.
These flames are familiar with every curve of my body and they dance around with trained feet.


I’ve been in hell for years.


People continue suggesting I find the light at the end of the tunnel, but that’s near impossible here.
I’m too blinded by the brightness of a vehement flame.
Sizzling with an angry vigor for the lack of gratitude I bestowed on my past life.

It mocks the speed at which I used to be able to run. It laps sardonically at the feet that used to run cheer-inducing speeds without thanks from their owner.

But crowds don’t cheer my name anymore.
I now stand on the sidelines and watch my team play.

I burn alive for the game I used to breath and as I watch each and every game, the deep breaths of oxygen only continue alighting the fire.

There’s no way out it seems, but I will try to keep walking.


Because talking is futile.



Note:
Spinal diseases are crippling mentally and physically. Watching the body you've sculpted for years turn to mush because you can't workout is dilapidating .
The despair and helplessness are unfamiliar feelings, feelings that can't be overcome. Disease is disease and sometimes it can't be stopped. Sometimes, it just becomes a burden to bear.


And sometimes people aren't strong enough.

It's different when careers end after four years of college. An expected end, an anticipated end. But when things you love are taken from you abruptly, before your finished. The pain is exponentially worse.

Exponentially. Worse.

I signed up for the race you see. I was drafted to run.
They chose to pay my tuition so I could sprint at the gun.

But here's the problem that plagued me from the start.
I seemed to have left my confidence at an entirely different mark.

I showed up at the race and I didn't think I would win.
Even the sun shining down on the game looked a little grim.

What happens when your falling without any aid?
When there's no life support and you don't think you'll be saved?

What happens when you've signed on for too much?
When you can't be the athlete you want to be and you've got a limp with no crutch?

I had to figure it all out, a dark field and no map.
I had to find my confidence before I could score on attack.

I faced the coaches and dealt with their disappointed faces.
I had to move past the fact, that I had racked up some disgraces.

I cried in the showers when nobody could hear.
Letting anybody know I was weak was my biggest fear.

Because it doesn't count you see, if the shower's on.
There's already water running down and my tears always joined the marathon.

But I surpassed the doubt. I learned to dig deep.


I became that brave player on the field.


And I only cry in my sleep.

I will take this. I have to.
Even if it breaks me.
Even if it breaks me into a million pieces that nobody can put together again.

And it has.

It has broken me into so many fragmented pieces; I’m now what they refer to as

“damaged goods”

Something so traumatic, I’ll never be normal again.
Normal is a thing of the past.
This is what’s happening now.

Broken pieces.

Everywhere.

Every time I fix a piece, another breaks. I feel like I’m holding myself together with tape and glue and it’s not going to be enough. I don’t know what else to say, but it’s too much and it's not enough. All at the same time.

It’s like screaming without a voice.

They said there’d be waves.
They essentially promised.
They said that these waves of sadness would come and go. That happiness would slowly seep back in.

Weaving its way into the oscillating patterns of a heavy heart.

But there haven’t been any waves.
They were wrong.

Instead the pain is dull. It is constant.
But most of all, it’s there. It's there all the time.
The constant part is the worst. The only thing I could relate it to is fire.

It’s like somebody running through a fire has it easier. Sure they’ll get burned but the point is that they get to run through.

They get out.

This though? This is like getting caught in the fire and not making it through. This is like a permanent residency in my own personal hell and at some point I really need the fire to be put out; the pain to stop.

It has to. There’s only so much a girl can take. It’s like somebody has their dark hand engulfing my heart and they’re squeezing it every day and no matter how I plead, they’re refusing to let go.

It’s the greatest sadness I have ever known and it is depleting me emotionally and physically.
I. Am. Too. Weak.

Everybody keeps saying how strong I am. They have no idea. It’s like I’m the world’s greatest actress and I’ve fooled them all. All they see is somebody taking bad news well.

But nobody takes their entire earth shattering “well”.
And my earth has shattered. The death of my brother at the age of 21 has shattered me.

There’s not one thing I wouldn’t give to go back and hug him just a little longer at the airport three days before he died. It was just supposed to be his last semester at college. Not the end of a life time.

There are too many broken pieces. The jagged edges cut my hands. I can’t pick them up.

And so now all I can do is pray. With my forehead to the ground and my faith in God I will pray. Pray the pain away in hopes that one day, the happiness is real. And the tears stop.

In hopes that one day, I can go on without him.

So I’ll pray.

I'm an adult synonymous with actress.
Which means I will always be kind.
I will smile, I will laugh, I will play along.
And I'll assure you that I'm fine.

While a fiery passion seeks to destroy you,
I will sit pleasantly and smile.
I will nod along at your stupid jokes
And smile openly while thinking you're vile.

I won't even flinch when you embrace me
But instead I'll squeeze twice as hard.
Because an actress of my caliber
Knows your hand and every card.

And while forgiveness stands and beckons
I will smile and stab it's righteous form.
And wash away the silliness of it's being
Then my hatred cloak I'll adorn.

I'll never be impressed by your efforts
Your chances of redemption have long passed.
Your lying trilogy cannot be undone
Too many mistakes have been amassed.

My family will always forgive you though.
But I'll never be fooled again.
And since you really want to play this charade
Better grab a notebook and a pen.

Because I can act infinitely better
And I'll smile till the very end.
Get my Oscar ready too
Because this isn't going to mend.

I'll never forget the day
And I'll never really forgive
How happiness was ripped away
For you to selfishly live.

I'll always truly hate you.
And this will always be an act.


Because I'm an adult.
Synonymous with actress.

The clock was bound to strike midnight
This I already knew.
But I lost track of time,
And I stayed searching for my shoe.

It's like I was playing tug of war with a cowboy
I just really didn't have a chance.
I might as well have been doing the tango,
During a western square dance.

As soon as I tried to walk away,
The cowboy was up in arms.
He lassoed the rope around my waist,
And I heard the shrill of alarms.

Yet I still let him reel me in,
Like a fish caught in a net
I laid all my chips down and out,
Knowing I was loosing the bet.

I joined his game freely,
With my whole army down.
I had no back up at all.
A shopaholic out on the town.

And now I'm all torn up
Cause he's done and had his way.
And with a tip of his hat,
This cowboy's said good day.

He's ridden off into the sunset
And I've watched him disappear.

And I'm the cut up fragments of an unwanted ****
That the gardener tore up with his sheers.

I remember being young and thinking I would have my life together when I was older.
That I was going to grow up and at some magical point, life would get better. Because I would be an adult and as an adult I would have infinite choices.

Infinite control.

But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that the naivety of children protects them from foresight. They can’t think about the logistics.
Only the beginning and ending of dreams - never flanked with concern of the pathway in between.

Thus, as a child, I thought I would grow up, gain a sense of control, and have it all together. That I would be able to stop my parents from fighting, work a really fun job, and hang out with my brother on weekends. As a child, that’s honestly how I saw the world. I thought that the problems encountered by adults could be easily fixed because they were adults and they had control.

But I was wrong.
Death, among many other things, cannot be fixed.

I think that these beliefs held by children can be so strong that no matter how many adults tell them life is hard, they just can’t believe it. A sense of innocence so dense in nature protects children. They are so dearly sheltered, so entirely shielded from reality, they can’t imagine its entirety.

Five-year-old me knew nothing about this world.

That its entirety is built upon a give and take of growing physically and shrinking mentally and emotionally.
In which biologically, cells are reproducing and hearts are pumping blood but mentally and emotionally things are breaking down and all the time pieces are being stripped away. Pieces that won’t be given back.  
Ever.

It’s sort of awful really.
Because nobody realizes until it’s too late. Until you’ve seen so many people break, you start to wonder if you’ve been broken too or if you’re still waiting.
For you tests, your trials, your tribulations.

As we age, we are broken over and over, only to sometimes be rebuilt. Sometimes rebuilt better and sometimes never rebuilt at all; never fixed.
And the worst part is the realization. Looking around and beginning to see the broken bits everybody has hanging by a thread; a quick patch up so they could go to work that day.

But patch ups don't last forever.
And sometimes things break more than once.
Sometimes the same exact wounds are reopened.

And sometimes, once people are broken in certain ways, they can’t be fixed.
Like an outdated piece of technology, that part just isn’t made anymore.

And nobody ever tells you this growing up. They can’t because you’re protected.
So as you go through life, your shield begins to wear and you begin to notice.
And after noticing it, you’re suspect to watch as people break one by one.
And then you’re left to ponder the arrival of your turn.
Or wonder if it’s already happened.

In the stands the crowds cheer,
It's what they do best.
And in class the professor lectures,
About the greatness expected for every test.

And at home the parents preach,
About the wrong that shouldn't be done.
And outside the officers enforce,
With their hands firmly on their guns.

But nobody ever teaches you,
How to handle the disappointed faces.
When you've gone down your own path.
Leaving the rest still in their braces.

Nobody ever tells you,
That the disappointment is rough.
That handling what can't be handled,
Is nonsensically tough.

So here I am to write it.
In hopes that it will be read.

In fragment whims of lyrical rhymes,
Incompetently attempting to ease the dread.  

Take these words and conquer.
Take them as weapons like swords.

So when they judge and cast their mockery.
Your arsenal of protection is what wards.

Let you be safe and sound during the fight.
And walk unbothered by those with selfish plight.

And journey till you reach the destination of choice,
Where freedom rings in the form of your own voice.

I find organic to be fun
Becuase there's a cute boy in my class
And I always have to be careful
Not to stare at that ***.

And my train of thought
Just seems to get lost
Between ionization of electrons
And very ***** thoughts.

I'm always trying to focus
With my very best effort
On the professor and lecture
My answers are always cohort.
When I get called on
The answers slip out
I'm never all there
But I never have to doubt.

I know they're right
It's all in my head
So bursting with facts
A plethora of premed

That's exactly why
I never have time
To ponder emotions
Or cry and whine.

I've got equations to solve
And solutions to mix
I've got labs to write up
And patients to fix.

So while I may like a boy
I know it'll never work
I'm emotionally bankrupt
And he'll take me for a ****.

Because I wont talk feelings
I've got anatomy to memorize instead
And I wont have time for long dates
Because I'll be studying or in bed.

So I wont ask for his time
Because I haven't any to return
I don't have any to give away
No free minutes to burn.

Dark and full of doom
Yet miracle prone.

Everyday in the office
I fix broken bones.

I piece back together
What gets carelessly torn.

Precisely placed sutures,
So skin is reborn.

Racing against a clock
Trying to never lose.

Feelings aren't relevant,
They scientifically can't bruise.

Each day a new patient.
Each day a new story.
Each day a new surgery
That most would find gory.

But when you've shut out feelings
For the most part of your life
It's easy to patch up others
Whose bodies have seen strife.

Fixing broken bones
The curer of a heart.

Fixing others while I'm broken

Is a complicated art.

He came.
He saw.
He conqured.

And my feelings betrayed my gut.

My heart betrayed my mind.
And my common sense locked its shutters shut.

My warning center closed up business.
Hung up a sign that said "Out of luck".

My stop go stystem simply said "go"
Like an accelorator was stuck.

And the result of such betrayals?

My heart is now muck.

I used to believe in fairy tales and unicorns and Santa on his sleigh.
And then the facade started to crack, just a little day by day.

And finally one afternoon the wind slightly sighed
And a crisp broken-off leaf of Fall tore down what once stood by.

And now I'm left quite shattered and there's not much to give.
Because now that all I've known has come to be false, I'm just not sure how to live.

And there's just too many pieces I'm afraid I can't even begin,
To put back together and whole the facade I once lived in.

The sun doesn't seem to shine as bright anymore and even the stars look a little dull
And I can't get rid of the constant nausea I feel in my stomach and my soul.

Coach says I need to write this stuff down but I don't think I really can.
There's a certain piece inside of me now accepting that everything's ******.

What little belief I had in love, what tiny delicate piece
That belief is magically gone now, blown away like that Fall leaf.

Perhaps I'll get over it one day. Perhaps I'll overcome.
But until that day decides to dawn I won't say a word to her, not one.

She cheated on my father. Stole his money and viciously lied.
Took all of my college fund and gave it to some no-namer I'll call Clyde.

His real name is a bad word. Forever in the trash.
And anytime somebody mentions the word "Mother", I look for the closest wall to bash.

There's just so much anger, as if everything is tainted red.
Sometimes I can't sleep at night playing the events over in my head.

So I've developed a relationship with sleeping pills. A dependency I hide.
Sometimes when I try to take nights off the monsters rush in from outside.

Yet I never drown myself in my tears nor breakdown and cry.
Because I've got a father already down that street and I have to stand tall by his side.

When I found out the news and had to tell him late one night,
Seeing my great Dad cry was the absolute worst sight.

I held him while his rugged frame shook and gave him tissues to dry his eyes.
Slipped him Tylenol to cure his heartache, a little pill with a surprise.

It was that very night that I realized not all of us could break and cry.
So I knew I would have to be stable and hide any teary eyes.

When everybody is down and wandering without hope,
there has to be somebody to stand tall.

Somebody to help cope.

So I can't break down. Because then everybody will be truly lost.
I've learned to stand tall.

No matter what the costs.

But no matter how hard I try, no matter what means I take,
I still always wake up with dried tears caked on my face.

It's funny that that happens because I go to sleep without tears.
But maybe that's how it works when your conscience switches gears.

I don't have to act tough because I'm soundly asleep

and I can't tell myself to stop

as I sleep and silently weep.

I feel sorry that some people think

They
Weren't
Born
Whole.

So they go out searching,
Waiting,
Abating,
For somebody to complete their soul.

At a young age I was blessed to be broken
Got to put the pieces back together myself.
No man, no prince, no shining bright knight.
Just me and my sutures
Disinfecting alcohol on the shelf.

I don't need a healer
So no human need bother
I fixed what was broken
Saved you your wine-and-dine dollar

Spend it on a damsel
Who's been tricked into thinking she's distressed
Because I'm having none of that **** here
I'm the latest model of me and it's simply the best.

See medically speaking,
Scars won't ever leave
But they can always be replaced
By smaller ones chosen at your knives' reprieve

So I've built myself a brand new me
As whole and together
As possibly could be.

Patched up nicely with sutures
Tied ever so tight
Keloids like embedded trophies
Many a victorious fight.

And while one might go searching
Like a pollinating human bee.
I know my self worth.

I'll never depend on thee.

Another day, another night
Spent in the library,
hidden out of sight

I thought I'd study hard
All my math equations
But then you walked in
You're your own sensation

And now I can't focus
The numbers seem to blur
The only equation I see
Is the one of you and her

But it doesn't add up
I know it isn't correct
There's a major number missing
And it's quite a big defect

What could she have
That I so clearly lack
I can't even begin to describe
This world-crushing panic attack

Then you sit down
Right beside me
And I'm still trying to figure out
Why your acting so blindly

This equation won't balance out
This equation is wrong
This equation needs some subtraction
This equation is too long.

This equation could be perfect.
This equation could be grand.
But she's still at your side.
And this equation is ******.

Sometimes when things get bad
It's hard to imagine that greatness can ever follow.

Sometimes when things get bad
The *** of gold seems eternally hollow.

As if an eternal sunset may have occurred
And the sun took it's last bow.

And through the dimmed silky moonlight
You can only see grey clouds.

But that's only sometimes
And the world gets better.

I can promise you this.
You won't always be a debtor.

One day you'll collect
And the sun will shine brighter.

And you'll stand proud
Because you were the last fighter.

So keep pushing
And get up when you've been slammed down.

Because a human with such brilliance
Does not belong on the ground.

Do not listen to unrealistic words
Go forth and persevere.

So you can always be proud
When you see your face in the mirror

And when the light doesn't seem to shine
And your lifelines look severed.


Use your own mind to remember


"Sometimes" is not forever.

Down the sidewalk
The feet’s pitter and patter
Fast and faster
Nobody knows what's the matter

Down the sidewalk
Cracks are creaking and cracking
Holes are being formed
People realize what they're lacking

Down the sidewalk
The sun is sailing and setting
Darkness is seeping in
The lack of light is rather upsetting

Down the sidewalk
The world is failing and ending
But I’m sitting in the dark
Sitting and pretending.

Down the sidewalk
The world is silent and still.
You've run away
Taking the Sun and all my fill.

You try to hit where it hurts.

But it doesn't hurt anywhere anymore.

Jokes.
On.
You.

Dawn has yet to approach.
And it seems it’s endlessly far off.
If I didn’t know any better,
I’d think the hands of time have been caught.

I’d say they went willingly.
Just upped and quit.
Laying down their weaponry,
After taking so many a hit.

It’s been rumored around
They have quite the grudge.
They’re tired of being wasted,
They’re refusing to budge.

The hands of time you see,
Have been ******* quite tight.
Against this ungrateful mass,
They’re taking a stand to fight.

They're refusing to be wasted
They won't take such treatment no more
Until people learn to make the most of them
They refusing to move to four.

And so I’m stuck at 3:47
And my heart’s still breaking
And I’ve apologized to time,
For all the moments I've been wasting.

But the hands still won’t budge,
And it’s perpetually dark.
And I’m certain for sure,
This loveless war will leave great scars on my heart.

I crave adventure in ways I myself cannot understand.
But I think that’s what losing a loved one does to you. It creates a sort of entrapment that cannot be overcome. You’ve lost something incredibly valuable and you’re left with no means of ever getting it back. You begin to gravitate towards all open roads because you’ve got no ties holding you down. It’s almost like deep down, you’re searching for what’s been lost.

I think feelings of loss and feelings of entrapment go hand in hand. If you blink, you might miss how quickly they follow each other into the room.

You’re now alone in this world.
You’ve been left behind and you cannot help but feel trapped in this place where you cannot find what’s been taken.

And I try, I do really try to remember that loved ones are only ours to borrow and never to keep but it’s easier said than done. Especially when you lose a twin.

The loneliness is incredible but the suffocation that ensues is inevitably worse.
See, when parents lose a child, they gravitate towards the pieces in their lives that didn’t shatter.
I am one of those pieces.
I am the piece that hasn’t shattered: their only living child.

And my parents are holding onto me so tightly, they are blind to the damage induced by their suffocating grasp. Permanent damage. The kind of damage that will make me flee from any and all means of control, any and all relationships that might try to bind me to a time or place because I cannot stay any longer here there anywhere. Anywhere at all that might result in being chained.

To induce the sort of suffocation I may not survive now.

Because I am drowning.

It’s ironic in a dark Sylvia Plath way. I have always feared that drowning would be a terrible way to go. I never thought I would experience what it was like to drown on land.

But I am here. I am here in this moment. And in this moment I cannot breath. There is oxygen all around me and I still cannot breath.

You guys are suffocating me. I am the remaining living child and you guys are suffocating me.

I.

Cannot.

B R E A T H

I used to think it was better knowing it all
But you're gone now and I've uncovered all your secrets.
All the darkest that led you to fall.

And now I know that when too much is learned, when too much has been found,
The old days will be yearned, but they'll be too buried beneath the ground.

I've found the drugs, the meds, the prescriptions galore.
I've uncovered all the things hidden behind the closet door.

The drugs were the worst and filled with sorrow.
I wish I had paid enough attention and known you were hollow

I would have traveled the earth and put sunshine in jars
I would have found climbed the sky and stolen stardust from the stars

I would have bottled it up and hand delivered it fast
If I had known you were so wounded and you weren't going to last.

But I was too caught up in myself and you always burned so bright.
How could I have known that August 17th would be your last night?

I keep looking back wondering what I could have changed
But you were the happiest person I knew...

I would have never thought of dark seas and waves deranged.

I would have never thought of monsters and sorrow and silent cries
I would have never imagined all the secrete drug dealings and the lies.

I would have never imagined the oxy, the xanax, the vicodin pills
I'd always seen you as the adventurous boy, the one seeking thrills

I just didn't know that a battle had been struck and a war had been waged.
That the insides of your mind were dark and enraged.

I wish I had known though, so that I could have aided.
So that I could have protected my twin, prevented and persuaded.

Whatever it was, we could have gotten through it.
If I had only known, if I had only seen enough to pursue it.

But I didn't.
So I couldn't.

And there's no going back.

And now there's only one of me. My other half I lack.

If I stop
The ball will drop
No supplies to clean
A mess, no mop

So I carry the weight
Heavy on my shoulder
I hide it so no one sees
The foreboding boulder

They want a leader
They want a star
But my feet are tired
And I can't run far

They want a winner
Some one to run the race
But all my efforts
Seem to only disgrace

What happens when
I can't run anymore?
When my feet stop working
And my lungs are too sore?

I will be dropped
Like yesterdays trend
They will find a new doll
To mold and bend

So I carry the weight
And I shoulder the pain
I put my tears away
And pretend I'm sane

I won't let the weakness show
That my breaking point is near
I'll side step the ditch
They want me to fear

I'll pick a shovel
To penetrate the ground
Burying my feelings deep
My sobs don't sound

And after that
The race continues
Each time a winner
Is led to a new venue

To start another race
To cross another line
To achieve another title
To their own feelings. Blind.

I used to strongly believe that you could never know too much
That no matter how dangerous a piece of information, it was always wise to touch.

But then the pieces became jagged and the sharply broken pained to grasp
And I suddenly was struck with the realization that nothing ever lasts.

These delicate little pieces of information I once so coyly sought out
Were now being traced as the infectious seed that caused this very drought.

No more smiles or rainbows, the red curtain has now been drawn
Or perhaps a curtain has lifted and I can see all the goings on.

And the scene isn't pretty. Whichever way you wish to look.
The sun was much brighter, when I skipped pages in this book.

But now that I've read into all there is and know just a tad too much
The facade is broken, and the glass pieces hurt to touch.

At the ripe young age of twenty, take or give a couple days
I've learned that ignorance is bliss and to never stare fully at the grey.

Tactfully draw the line where white meets black.
And never too closely analyze the grey.

For you may find out too much.


And it will steal your happiness away.

I call it "Small Pool Syndrome".
It occurs not all at once, but slowly over time. When one is constrained to seeing the same groups of people for too long. People that you once found ordinary, are suddenly seemingly extraordinary.

The problem arises when you can't see past the facade. The significant other you begin to fall for isn't extraordinary. They aren't meant for you. But you've been around them for long enough that you've forgotten what the outside world holds. You've forgotten that you know better. That you can do better.

It's a hard facade to crack really. Because before you know it, you've fallen for the idea of a person. Who they could be instead of who they are. At this point, you've hurdled the red line and surpassed the danger zone. Almost too far gone. Because falling for an idea is worse than falling for a person. The ending is never ideal.

The trick to overcoming Small Pool Syndrome is to leave. You must leave the pool, explore the ocean, immerse yourself in new depths.
It is only when you've left the shallow end, that you will discover what greatness awaits. One cannot overcome heartbreak from expectation until they are immersed in reality. Reality can only be found outside of the small pool. You must swim out past the tidal zone.

And when you've finally dragged yourself out, you'll stand looking into the pool instead of swimming in it. And you'll feel the "Ah-hah" moment overcome you as you realize the person you once looked at with shinning eyes was always staring back with dull ones. They aren't the one for you, no matter how sweet their words had tasted in your mouth. In life you'll find some things aren't meant to be swallowed. Especially poison.

And there will be some who may not understand. There is no rhythm or rhyme to this prose. For the majority it is but words. But for a select few, for those afflicted, these may be the words necessary to crack the facade. To pull them out of the pool. To prevent the drowning.

Don't let your heart break from expectations. Leave whats not good for you and find what you deserve.

You deserve better so:

Do. Better.

Get better.

You cannot look back if you are in the same place. You must move forward in order to reflect. And until you move forward, you cannot realize that putting one foot in front of the other was the best **** thing you could have done for yourself.

I'm a stranger in my own house
And there's nowhere to go.
Surrounded by familiar faces
But no arms to call home.

No where to seek comfort
When the rain starts to pour.
No arms to run into
When the monsters knock on the door.

It's a funny thing.
But it's not funny at all.
How far away everybody seems
Even when they're just down the hall.

I've taken what I feel
And locked it up tight.
Now I smile when I'm sad
To hide my own plight.

The only reminder that none of it's not real

Is the heaviness in my heart from wounds that won't heal.

I wish I could pinpoint when my world began to change,
When the cracks led to crumbles.
When the seas became deranged.

When did my heroes fall and what led to their defeat?
Why am I left with no truth at all, expect the ten toes on my feet?

I wish I could remember now,

                                                      all three wishes to go back.

Because these days here are darkened
A haunted prey awaiting attack.

Why couldn't the black and white last and when did this confusion set in?

I'm standing nauseated
Pondering cloudy grey sin

I want to drown in my sorrows, yet chase them to their origins too.
I must find why they showed up, roughly demoting my rainbow hue.

I want my heroes to come back. I yearn my simpler days.
When mom and dad could do no wrong

But those memories seem such a haze.

Really trying to remember, giving my hardest to peer back.
It saddens me to realize,
An abundance of those years I lack.

My parents weren't my heroes for long. I soon admired other things.

At a young age I had to find out,

Invincible doesn't apply to human beings.

And now I'm left in the cold and I really can't remember,
If it was warmer when I was innocent,

or if I've always experienced this weather

To the boy in the library
I see you every night
With your grey jacket and chemistry book
You're always quite a sight

Did you know I choose my table
Just carefuly so?
I sit facing the way you come in
So I'm always in the know.

The way you walk in
The way your hips just flow
And the way you open your chemistry book
So sure of what you already know

To the boy in the library
We have the same books
Which means the same classes
I think that'll be my hook.

That'll be what I bring up
When I see you next
Because I'm sure I'll have the courage then
And I won't be so perplexed

It'll be what I say
When I find the words
To string together
To come out in herds

It'll be what's said
When I finally get up
From my table
To ask you what's up

It'll be the start of our story
A cloud of romance
It'll be what we whisper
During our wedding dance

It'll be what's told
To our little kings and queens
It'll be our anecdote
When our aniversary hits seventeen

At least that's what it will be
When I get the words right
When I say them with a smile
Some other lucky night

Until then though,
I'll choose my seat just so
In the basement of the library
with the dim lighting glow.

I see things I can’t make sense of
I strive to be with attributes that don’t exist
I meet gunners every day.

I try to find happiness in the most caffeinated liquids.
But the light never shines and cannot be found
My darkest suspicions is that it’s been buried underground.

Not only can I not find a shovel but I also lack the energy to dig.
I’m feeling so empty.
Drained with nothing to give.

And there’s nobody to reach out to.
Flailing limps, discerning manic.
I can’t escape this attack.
Cortisol levels rising

And

I

Begin

To

Panic.

He says hello
And he means simply that.
She analyzes such an intro
and draws plans to enact.

He shrugs his shoulders
Because he really doesn't know.
She reads too far in
and can't seem to let it go.

He walks away
Because there's nothing left to say.
She remains drowning
Distressed damsal in a falsified play.

Darkness has been greedy
And overstayed it's time
Such actions can't be legal
But who prosecutes the crime?

Whom can you even call
When the light doesn't answer
And you're enveloped by a dark wall
An eternal night dancer.

On and on
Pointed toes and dark mirrors
No stopping the dance
Even if the pain sears.

No taking a rest
No gasping for breath
Performance after performance
Dancing till death.

If I had to count the amount of people that have let me down.
I'd have no numbers at the end.

If I had to tell you of all my disappointments
You'd have no time left to lend.

If I had to search for all the missing pieces of my heart.
The X's drawn would make ink disappear from pen.

If I had to never see those faces again.
Maybe my heart would have a chance to mend.

But these If's are but wishes and I haven't a well.
So I must cast them aside and not waste time on fairy tales.

Because the world is a cold dark place and everybody gets knocked down.

Little broken pieces of every human

Can be found all over the ground.

You were always there for me.
Then you walked away.
I cried myself to sleep, but never during the day.

I was always sure to smile, to keep my demons at bay.
But every night they haunted me when they came out to play.

So now the days pass slow and the nights rage on.

Every night a war.

I always pray for dawn.

I believed you when you told me
That you'd hold me for forever and a day.
And I believed you when you told me
That you'd never be far away.

I even believed you when you lied
And believed you while I cried.
I even believed you after picking up
The black pieces of my heart that had died.

You were always quite the act
And I bought the bulk package.
Now I'm stuck with glass shards
Roughly poking through my bandage.

But I'm glad I'm a creature of evolution
And I can learn from my mistakes.
Because now I know the truth
And I've been trained to see through the fakes.

I won't believe in it any more
Because I now know too much.
I won't fall for any sparks that alight
Even if we touch.

It simply won't happen. Because I don't believe in it at all.
I've got too many bruises too.
Because nobody caught me during the fall.

I'm not really sure how it happened
I can't really explain when
All of a sudden though
The monster came out of it's den

It ate up all the sun
And hid the stars under the ground
It took away the mountains
And then there were no peaks to echo sound

There wasn't a moon anymore either. The monster took that too.
And now the sky can't be found.

I don't even know if it's still blue.

The monster crawled out of the darkness
And took everybody by surprise
After being suppressed for so long
It was hungry for their demise

This monster is inside of us
And it plots to get out every day
The battle constantly rages
And hope sometimes slips away

There isn't black and white and there isn't a good or evil.


Just monsters inside of all of us

That sometimes win.

Some don't believe it
Because some can't see
To most they're cloaked in invisibility

But
There are actually

Little broken bits of human

All over the ground.

To fall and to trust, it’s all a part of love
But I’ve never craved such a token.

Because I don’t fall and I don’t lust
And all the kids say I’m broken.

Because my tears can’t fall, or even develop
They won’t sound or cry.

When all the hearts break and all the eyes weep
Mine are whole and dry.

And this is the cold truth
The shivering word
The theory void of reason

There isn’t a fact
Or reason why
My heart seems to love such treason

It’s the cold truth, the simplest truth
The one that’s never worried

It speaks what’s real, shunning surreal
Seeking falsities to be buried

That’s probably why I’m dead inside
They say my insides could be black

Because I’ve never loved and I’ve never cried
Hollow skeleton of an icy tic tac.

Spin that web of lies you have
Always quick to keep yourself sane

And build that wall high up to the sky
A sure way to keep out the pain

But when the walls come down to the ground
and a cracked brick breaks your leg

Don't call upon me or ring at my phone
I won't come even if you beg

And I won't pay your bills or be a slave to your thrills
I'm not that shell of that egg

Because I won't be around
You won't see me frown

I'm immune to you and your plague.

We kissed.
Well I kissed you and then we took off. We kissed twice that night. Long kisses in the middle of a parking lot. Long kisses and lip bites. Chicago.

I kissed you in an effort to tie up loose ends. I kissed you so that I'd put the wondering to rest. I was a scientist you see. I had to analyze what your lips felt like, research the taste of your mouth.

I wanted to breath you. I didn't know if that was even possible but I was just conducting an experiment. It wasn't supposed to last. It wasn't supposed to be replicated. It was just an experiment.

I was kissing you to leave you.

Intending for our first kiss to be our kiss goodbye.

Then I flew home the next day and we didn't speak for three weeks. I didn't know that my research would ruin me. That I'd think about your lips obsessively for days. That I'd hate myself for the constant oscillations of you through my thoughts.

I wasn't prepared.

Then we talked. I found out you were too drunk to even remember the kiss. I was upset but I laughed instead. I pretended to be disgusted when I told you that you had tasted like cigarettes and alcohol. But really, I was disgusted with myself for liking everything about the kiss - including the taste of you and everything on your breath.

I've come to realize I was not a researcher that night. I was a fool. A fool who thought a first kiss with a long time crush would tie up loose ends. I ******* nothing that night. Instead I had taken the sharpest scissors I could have found and initiated the greatest unraveling of sanity my 22 year old self had ever endured.

Why did I have to kiss you? I should have walked away. Hell, I should have run away like the very ground near you was on fire. Because while I've thought about you every single day since I've left, I know I likely haven't graced your imagination. Our brains are spinning very different memories.

That's the thing about memories though. Two people can be in the exact same place, at the exact same time, and have completely different recollections of the events. For me, our kiss is a memory that I've turned over in my hands, again and again. Just when I think I'm safe, when I think I've examined every aspect, I find a jagged edge and I'm cut once again.

I cannot keep re-dressing new wounds.

For you though, our kiss is a hazy, sun faded piece of paper. A second thought. IF that.

A paper so insignificant, it's recall isn't worth the effort. Who cares what the faded ink once read.

I should have never become a researcher.

They say "just weather the storm"
"Just pass this test"
And "Once it's over, it will all be okay"

But it's not okay.
The storm has passed and it's not okay.
At all.

Because the storm destroyed me. And the pieces it took, the brother that's now gone.
I cannot seem to move on.

They say just weather the storm.
But they're so very wrong.

The aftermath is unbearably worse.