To Tell the Truth

Everyone has that moment when they're staring at a mistake and time just seems to wrap around them, swallow them in a weightlessness that is tantamount to death.
Mine came in the form of blood soaked bathroom rug and a hastily written note.
The tile floor become a womb,a cold memory to carry me from this life.
The next morning I woke up twice.
The first I ate breakfast, the second, I ate my pride.
I needed help.
I need help.
In place of a androgynous mass with a PhD and a ******* for money, I write lines.
Letter after letter I take this new cuneiform and pull the lines from the pages and stitch the holes in my heart shut.
Poem after poem I draw closer the redemption.
Everyone has that thing, that makes time start living again.

Sorry, I've just got a lot happening.
I'm no longer able to stand the bright lights, so I've been standing off to the side trying to think of something to say so everything will get off of my back and leave me alone because it's unbelievably hard to manage stress like this.

Of all things, consider these:

You are sitting in an airplane and the pilot comes over the speaker and explains that you are thirty thousand feet in the air and something horribly wrong is happening to the plane. You have roughly twenty minutes until the plane will be forced into the ocean.
Will you speak up, or will you sit silently?

You are dying of lung cancer and you have roughly three months until your body has no choice but to stop working all together.
Will you speak up, or will you sit silently?

Your father is lying on his death bed and he is confessing his sins and apologizing for never cheering you on when you were trying to get your act together.
Will you speak up, or will you sit silently?

Of all things, consider what is really happening here.
Will you be the one to hide under your blanket when the wind picks up and knocks the tree branches onto your window on stormy nights, or will you be the one to embrace it all and accept it for what it really is?

I've been thinking a lot lately, almost too much, and I've reached a point where the end is almost as rational as the beginning. In other words, it isn't.
Nothing makes sense when you really think about it, so why even think about it?
All I want to think about is the number of roses I have left to see in my life, and I do not want to miss a single one.

I'm not sure when I'll be returned to the roses from which I came, but when I finally reach them again, I hope that I can smell them just one more time.
I always pass the roses in my life and rarely do I ever stop to smell them.
I make a lot of mistakes, but that's probably my biggest thus far.

I'll be jealous of the people with green thumbs I'll meet in heaven, they spent their lives taking care of beauty, and all I did was spend too much time thinking about it.
Of all things I've considered, life is a garden and I just cannot find a place to start digging. Maybe one of these days my mind will stop racing and I will comfortably find a place that I want to plant my roses in.

Until then, you'll find me in the shadows of it all, just thinking of something to get myself by.

It hurts my head
Seeing what man does to man
Does to man.
It scares me!
Make s me want to cry.
I can't believe it, but it's true
Life
Is
Crazy
And killing still continues.
Women
Are being *****
Children too!
They are being sadistically tortured
But
It's nothing new.
Men
Are killing men
On the streets,
In the home
WHY
Is there so much KILLING
Still
Going on?!
WHY
Haven't
WE
Seen SENSE
That
Killing is not the game?
It's
To LIVE
Like RATIONAL human beings
Instead of
ANIMALS
INSANE!!

I
Want to say...'There, there, everything
WILL
Be
Okay!'

Sugar, sugar
Take me away
Sail me on your stream
Find me in my dreams

Sprint through my veins
Show me what it feels like to not know pain
On again, off again
I lose what I gain

You are a cloud and I am the rain on the riverbank
Watch me flow in waves as I claw and scratch like a fiend
Nothing is as it seems
I swear to god I am just living in a dream

However it is so tough to care when I am floating in this shipwreck
My body is but a vessel being carried by the loveless
It punches me and kicks me and stings me like a wasp's nest
I will wear this crown of thorns you call my regrets
And I will cheer and cheer until my vocal chords snap

We are living the best we can
So on and so forth we follow
These words are tough to swallow
But I wallow and I wallow and I do not dare to call you

Sadness greets a familiar face with a "Hello, nice to see you"
and with this I retreat

*The river and the clouds
of the white sugar sweets

I've become very analytical
I'm waking up every morning and then laying back down three times over
I go to turn on my light switch and miss and I miss and I miss again
I walk out my front door and pull the door slowly
God so slowly, as to not wake anyone

I walk down the street and I'm counting my steps
200, 201,202,203, keep going

I hold hands with my girlfriend and I won't stop holding her hand until she breaks away
I have this habit of picking at my cuticles
But I pick too far and then they bleed all over the carpet
They are constantly pink and puffy
Much like my broken down lips

I am so tired of hearing
"You're not ******* good enough"
As my father hits me again
I lay there counting the blows as my mouth is bleeding on the ground
I draw a smiley face in the puddles
That only ****** him off more
And he hits me harder
There is a smashed mirror sitting on the ground across from us
I catch a glimpse of myself smiling
What the **** is wrong with me

I wake myself up from nightmares
Every night at the same **** time, 4 am
I hear my mother talking in her sleep
We have a conversation that only I will remember
This is my nightly schedule and it will not change
I will not change

I paint my nails black to cover up the fact that they are purple and blue from pulling them from the skin one too many times
My eyes are dark as if I've been in a fight everyday for the past week
It's just my lack of sleep

People talk to me and I don't hear what they are saying
There mouths move and silence
My mind spins and spins
Like its part of a machine factory
I am hitting myself in the head
Trying to break the thread that tangles my thoughts so that I can finally form words
This is me
And I can't ever take any of that away from myself

I do not feel like myself
I am not my own
I am no longer on the inside nor the outside
I'm just.. here
Or maybe there
My skin does not feel like how I remember

Am I a boy or girl
Does it even matter
Gender is an illusion that was pushed on us by our founding fathers
Oh how great they were

They brought us together from chaos
And we could never repay them
Do we need to?
Is that what is meant when they say to not sin?

What if God isn't just one person but an idea
An entity of a group
A feeling that exists in each of us

Today is a new day
And it's still gloomy as ever
The rain drips down my window
I blow out to see my breath crack against the glass
What is the point of redoing everyday
To grow old?
To get married?
Have a wife, kids, a family?
Grow old and wither away

I think that's the answer
We are all part of the cycle
Reincarnate into something entirely new but yet just the same
There is a point to all of this
And with these tears in my eyes
I'm yelling it to the skies