People will often say
That those who have trouble
Letting others in
Are "guarded".

And maybe that's true
In most cases.
They wear an emotional
Suit of armor
And build imaginary walls
Around their hearts.

I also have trouble
Letting people get close.
But I would not,
In any circumstances,
Say that I am "guarded".

To call someone "guarded"
Insists that they are protected,
Safe from harm.
That's where the word loses its
Relevance to me.

I am not protected.
Not in the slightest.
I wear no suit of armor
And have no walls
Around my heart.

I'm as vulnerable as a baby deer
Who's lost it's mother
And broke it's leg.
I am susceptible
To any and all types of injury.

I am not safe from harm
Or impervious to heartbreak.
In fact,
I'm fragile.
My heart is brittle
And will break as easily as glass.

I have trouble letting people in,
But I am by no means "guarded".
I have trouble letting people in
Because I am extremely unguarded.

I am not protected or safe,
But I am evasive.
Which is probably
The smartest thing to be,
For people like me.

I run from danger
And emotional intimacy
Because I know
I'm too frail
To handle being mistreated
Or left alone.

After letting myself fall
Over and over again,
I've learned that love
Is not worth the pain
It inevitably causes.

I am done risking
My delicate soul
To feel close to someone.
At least for now,
I don't want to love
Or be loved by anyone.

For now,
I'm still recovering.
I'm still learning how to live
With myself and without the
Infatuation of someone
Who will most likely end up
Being nothing but a memory.

I won't correct you
If you call me "guarded".
But those who do not wish
To be emotionally close
Are not always so hardened.
Sometimes they're soft
And scared of the world around them.

These summer days
Are so strange.
There's so much silence
That I wish was sound.

I've always craved quiet
But it's different now.
Something about quiet
Makes me uneasy.

I'm trying to stay busy,
Occupied,
Distracted from all the quiet
That's laughing at me.

Maybe I need noise
Because in silence
My mind demands to be heard.
And I do not want to listen.

I do not want to listen
To what whispers echo
Throughout my skull
When there's nothing stimulating
My attention.

I've heard them before
And I have no interest
In being held hostage
By what feels like
A foreign voice.

I refuse to follow
My diseased train of thought.
It will only lead me
Into wars
And off cliffs.

So I will make noise
By any means necessary.
I will scream songs
I don't know the lyrics to.
I will play my guitar
Even if it's out of tune.

I will listen to a comforting voice
With a mesmerizing face.
I will smoke until
The silence is friendly.
I will paint
And become enthralled by colors
That only have examples
And no names.

I want my days to be
Loud and
Vibrant.
No more dull
Silence.

My hands have betrayed me.
Once the means to write pages,
Now my hands are only dead weight.

My hands won't pick up a pen.
Or even type short,
Choppy sentences.

They dangle at my sides
And find refuge in my hair,
Leaving me bleeding.

Like my hands,
My mouth has declared itself
My enemy.

Once the passageway for words
To explain myself,
My mouth is now as useful as a broken bridge.

With nothing of value to say,
It talks  
And sings anyway.

It opens without my permission
But stays closed whenever I try
To scream meaning.

The inability to illustrate
Or translate my mind
And my soul
Is not an unfamiliar ordeal.

But it's lonely on the outside
And frustrating looking in.
It seems I'll always feel like an alien.

I think it's time
For me to close my eyes
And slip into the sleep
That I've always desired.

I think it's time
To say goodbye
To everything I've grown to know
And everything I'll have to let go.

I think it's time
To find out
Once and for all
What dreams may come.

Falling in love
Feels quite literally
Like a fall.

Like you're stable
And balanced,
Then the ground
You're standing on
Is ripped right out
From under your feet.

Traveling at a terrifying speed
Directly to solid ground,
You begin to ask yourself
"Who will catch me?".

If you're lucky,
You'll land in someones arms
And walk with them
Knowing that if the ground disappears again,
Your fall will be broken
By their embrace.

And if you're not lucky,
Well I'm happy to report
That your fall doesn't end
With a splat
And a ****** mess,
Even though you may wish
It did.

No, for those of us
Who don't land in someone's arms....
Well, we don't land at all.
Gravity keeps pulling
But you never touch
The ground.
We keep falling,
Racing through space
To what should be,
What we hope will be
Our demise.

I keep falling,
Fully aware that the person
Who could break my fall
Is not waiting for me
To come plummeting into their arms.
Who knows where they are.

It may take you a while
But when you realize
That no one is going to catch you,
You might as well relax
And enjoy the eternal
Skydive.

I know I should be sorry
I know I should feel bad
Because here I am doing the thing
I said I'd never do again.

I said I wouldn't hurt myself
But that's been ******* all along.
The only thing that kept me clean
Was knowing that if I slipped
I'd be hurting more than just me.

But now I'm sitting here
Like I have so many times
Tearing at my skin
For a glimpse
Of sweet relief.

In the grand scheme of things
A few small scrapes
Doesn't make a difference.
It's nothing dangerous
And it's not hurting anyone
It's just a way for me to silence
The monsters in me.

I don't care anymore
About taking care of me
I'll do what I want
Even if it kills me.
I'll do what I want
Even if it means
ruining nine months
Of a fleeting fantasy

It's all much too
Loud.
The world going by me
Is much too
Noisy.

There's already a consistent scream
Inside of me.
The last thing I need
Is to be in this world
With too many
Sounds.

So I hide
In my room all day.
I hide myself away,
Because when I hear
Everything that's happening outside,
How everything moves just fine,
I begin to lose my mind.

Why can't I move the same?
Why can't I become
Part of this well oiled machine?
I'll never fit into
The motions they all execute,
So I sit on the edge
Of their common reality
And watch it all turn.

I watch it
But it gets too much
It grows too loud
And now I have to hide again.
Hide myself from all the sounds
That start fires in my head.

Run
Little freak.
Run
Black sheep.

My ears are too sensitive
To be in anything but
Silence.
To be in anything but
Quiet.

The vibrations of the outside
Go in my sensitive ears
And amplify whatever is already
Being screamed in my
Tortured
Tormented
Time bomb
Mind.

Then they go to my eyes,
Well right behind
And build pressure
And pain
Until I have no choice but to
Cry.
Cry.
Little baby
Little freak
Little black sheep