Another middle-of-the-night charade,
a delicate pas de deux with my bed sheets.
I forced my eyes open,
for the images on their lids
became too much
for the heart lodged in my throat
to handle,
choking,
strangling.
Let me breathe.
I'll surrender to the night,
to the slow passing of time.
Just let my lungs take in clean air
And press out every image I just witnessed.
My eyes are softly drifting again,
so shake me awake,
and give me a fight,
for fear of falling back asleep.

Take my hand,
and I’ll take theirs.
Let me drink the strength I need
to soak their tears away.
Into my veins may every drop go,
straight to the pulsing muscle
that keeps my skin from greying,
pumping out to every crevice of my body,
piercing every cell.
Bruise my flesh,
and puncture my pride,
as long as I can breathe
vitality into them,
just to keep their eyes alive
and open to a vastly better world.
Take away what I have known,
for they don’t need to endure
the shallow, harsh, sliest of demons
bewitching the brightness ahead.
Stab me.
Fool me.
Use me.
**** me.

Just never let them see it.

It's yet another day
for yet another year
to ban another tear
from the contours of my cheek,
And yet another fray
from yet another war
for the dagger through my core,
just wanting to be bleak.

And every day
I make myself happy.
And everyday
I swallow the weak.

Today is no different.
Here's to pressing on,
round three.

Somehow,
this place brings about a complacency
that isn’t familiar to my brain,
a delicate calmness,
beaming ever-so-softly
that the slightest abstraction
from this consistently inconsistent dwelling
will shift my mind to a place undesired.
I need this silence.
And by silence,
I mean the swishing of a small waterfall a few feet away,
the peck of a duck as its feathers are cleaned,
the splash of these creatures under the sunset,
the quiet buzz of the street nearby,
the flutter of a bird in the distance,
and the hum of an overhead airplane.
A breeze lightly runs its fingers through my hair,
and the rustling of the leaves in the trees
whispers,
“You are at peace here.”

They say
honesty is the best policy.

I say
honesty is an art
that is nearly extinct to our culture.

Ignorance isn't bliss,

*******.