Your first night without her
is always the hardest.
You turn to find the place she used to lay,
the outline of her body in your sheets,
yet somehow all you find now is emptiness.
To deal with heartbreak
you must cry.
You must cry into your pillow
or weep at the moon.
You must scream until
the pain has left your chest
right in the place
where love used to be.
You must run barefoot
into the woods
and find a field
full of life and lay in the middle of it.
You must feel your body so connected
to the earth
and the nature around you
and you must feel.
To deal with heartbreak
you must feel the broken pieces
of your heart
but not let it damage you.

The thoughts in my head
escape through my ear drums
and surround me with my demons.
My bones rattle underneath my flesh
as i try to look them in the eyes
yet i can never look past their feet.
Fear strikes me in more ways than one
and here I am again
trying to fill the voids
inside of me that they scrape away.

The car lights
echo behind his eyes
as i see the pain he holds
inside himself quietly.
His fists are clenched against
the steering wheel
as if he's afraid that he may
lose control of himself if he loosens up.
His smile spreads across his face
yet all i see is the sadness
that sits inside his bones.

I am worn flannels
from the boys section
of the second hand shop.
Long sleeves covering
the seven years
worth of scars.
Seven years
battling mental illness.
I am paint stained carpet
and broken down shoes.
A pair for the different person
that i decide to be
everyday.
I am an adventurer
trying to find a place to call home.
Late night bonfires
and the starlit sky.
I am who i am
and most of all
I am proud.

I want to be your friend after high school
not
mourn over your death.
These words slipped
off your tongue
and rolled into my ears.
As i process these words
I can see the tears
forming in your eyes
and i knew i had to plant
my feet into the ground,
stay on this earth another day
no matter how much it hurt.
I will grow stronger roots
so nobody can knock me over,
tear me down.

Doctor please,
Crack open my rib cage
and let the light seep in.
Take this monster out of me.
Scrape it off my bones
and tear it out,
I can feel it growing larger
with every breath I take.
Doctor please,
this is killing me.

1-800 I need your help.
My brain is screaming,
I am unsure of what to do.

1-800 She left me again
this time for good.
She left traces of herself everywhere
and i can smell her in my bed sheets.

1-800 I opened my own flesh again.
I was searching for the thing
that lives inside of me.
It is growing stronger
and so is my fear.

1-800 Why am I on the side of the highway?
It's 2 AM.
I'm watching the car's lights zip by
under the comforting blanket
of the night sky.

1-800 My skin bag
is full of capsules
meant to fix me.
I guess I'm sicker than I thought.

1-800 I want to fly
soar into the sky
and plunge into the sea.

1-800 I am tired of you.
I don't care about these
words of hope you feed to me.

1-800 the sadness is still here
yet I can manage.
I want to see the sun come up
and be one with this earth.
I don't need you anymore.

I've always been told
that I have matured rather fast.
Some think I'm an adult
confined into a younger body.

Once,
I was innocent.
Sparkling blue eyes
and a vast smile
with crooked teeth.

Once,
I was happy.
I haven't felt happiness since
the age of 10
and now i search for it
in this somber room.
But the room is boarded up
and i can't pry the boards free.

This darkness has captured me
and engulfed me.
I can not find my way out.

The darkness began when
he decided to take away the innocence
and bright blue eyes.
I am not the same.
I lost that little girl,
she passed away a long time ago
and her funeral was the saddest of all.

Our love was a secondhand shop.
Faded and used,
you left me there,
decided you no longer wanted me.
I sit among the other used items
broken
and bruised.
Memories line the walls
and stock the shelves
of empty promises
and broken hearts.
Our secondhand love
is being sold at a discount price
with burn marks
and ripped holes.
You were just another girl
with clumsy hands
and missing pieces.
I slipped through your bony fingers
and you watched me fall
onto the dirt brown carpet.
I still have the rug burn to this day.
Your eyes
could burn holes through my skin
and melt me into the ground.
Our love was a secondhand shop
with memories burned into me.

I see everything is a different way.
I am not here,
I am there.
Disassociation
is the enemy
that i fight every day.
I'm tired of being there.
Not here,
somewhere beyond here.
I often stand outside myself
and peer in,
trembling,
terrified of what i may find.
I am there,
beyond here,
trying to escape.