Step 1: Get out of bed
Step 2: Look in the mirror
Step 3: Practice your smile
Step 4: Eyedrops to hide the red eyes
Step 5: Conceal the dark circles
Step 6: Breathe
The curtains are almost up
Step 7: Lock down the pain
Step 8: Ignore the weight on your chest
Step 9: Silence the screams inside of your mind
Step 10: Choke down the sobs in your throat
Step 11: Ignore the stinging in your eyes
Step 12: Swallow past the tightness in your throat
You’ve put on this show a million times
Step 13: Don’t let them see
Times up. Curtains up. Camera rolling
You know how when you’re not ok but you try so hard to pretend you’re ok that it becomes a ritual
the things that you
S T O L E
i will never forgive you for
the person i was seems
L O S T
in some kind of transit
i can't help feeling the
P A I N
that you inflicted on me
and yet somehow i still
B L A M E
My mind, my Alaska
wild and rugged
beautiful but brutal
burying my demons
is the wolf that kills just a puppy?
have I finally reached the land so untouchable and wild?
isolated and hidden waiting to be found
an eternal place
buried deep in Alaska where no one goes
protection in isolation leading only to confusion
you show yourself piece by piece
then you run back into the woods
unsettled and unpredictable
it may erupt at any time
beauty built on violence
torn apart and broken
you lay there bleeding until you're ripped apart and eaten
white powder of purity falls on you
serene in your silence
you become uninhabited
and suddenly you're back to protecting
cold to touch
but you're safe for now
hiding in the wilderness of Alaska
who are you?
I sit and stare at the fragments of myself around me
utter demise of the mask I've worn for so long
long past helplessness and crying
numb in the detachment of who I thought I am
no appetite for life
lost in a haze of dissociation
disconnection in the prison of my mind
the world goes by in an unfamiliar pace
I'm finely broken
I can no longer hold myself together
exhausted with trying
intrusive thoughts dragging my weak body down
time to face what I've hidden from
i feel like i’m made of glass
and last february,
you broke me.
you didn’t know
and you didn’t care
and you just. kept. pushing.
i broke into a million jagged pieces
you took some of them with you.
i can’t get them back
and i’m not stupid enough to try.
you shattered me
and i was careless enough
to cut myself in the wreckage.
nothing was the same.
you broke me when i said no
and i thought
i could put myself back together
by saying yes--
again, and again, and again.
to anyone who would listen,
and now all of my bridges are in flames
and i’m getting burned.
do you know what happens to burning glass?
it’s happening to me
and i’m starting to fly away in the wind,
slipping through my own fingers
like sand on the beach.
scattered so far
and so wide
that finding my way back together is like searching
for a single grain
on the ocean floor.
i'm drowning in my past
for a lifeline
reaching for anything--
that will take me
that will tape me back together
I'm not afraid of commitment.
I'm afraid of giving up control.
Of letting another person in.
Who can just walk back out.
The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.
When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.
If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.
But most people don’t see it.
Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.
The poet lives in two different worlds.
A little escape from the madness.
Or maybe, into.