Would the growing distance between us be filled with
angered screams
regretful tears
or a quiet understanding?

Would you place the blame on me because
I didn't love you enough
I kept my walls up
and I never invested all of my energy into us?

Would I try to explain that
my head was in a dark place
I was being pulled in a thousand directions
and I hoped you'd see the beauty in my disaster?

Would we reminisce on
our trip to that tiny island
to that little Airbnb
that had the exposed brick?

Please don't say it,
those three little words
that form a lump in my throat
and a tremor in my nerves.

Please don't say it,
I know you mean well
but my heart can't handle
another splinter or crack.

Please don't say it,
I won't think of you less
if you let this pleasantry pass
Carry on and ignore these tears overflown.

Please don't say it,
We both are aware I'll say I'm fine
as I stumble through a lie
to fulfill the expectations of this social interaction.

Sing it softly as I try to get some sleep.

If I could speak to you one more time,

I’d tell you about all the great and terrible things I’ve done
Hear your voice crack as you laugh at the fact that I tripped on a gap in the sidewalk again.

I'd get to see you dressed up for prom
and run across the lacrosse field
and even shake the hand that handed you your diploma.

I’d like your posts, filled with new friends you made at college,
and might even get the chance to dance with a few of them.

If I could speak to you one more time,

I’d explain that I hear you in the singing of the summer cicadas
and I see your smile in every shade of purple that exists in the world
and feel your hugs in every tie-dye t-shirt I wear.

I’d forgive you for making March the hardest part of the year
and even survive the month without shedding a tear.

If I could speak to you one last time,

I’d whisper I love you despite it making your eyes roll.
I’d say thank you for filling my childhood with endless laughter.

If I could speak to you one last time,

I’d probably be too emotional to say anything at all.

So, I’d just hold you for a little bit longer.

I wish to not feel the aftershocks of the war occurring inside,
To not make one move that crushes my whole day
under the weight that tears my joints apart.

And yet,

Doctors smile and tell me nothing is wrong
Doctors smile and state that my pain tolerance is just too low
Doctors smile and run the same **** tests
that produce the same **** results
They smile while I rip my hair from my scalp.

The days bleed into one as the clouds covering my brain
chain me to the bed and make raindrops fall from my eyes,
Friends start to believe that I just don't care when I leave their messages covered in dust,
dying in a graveyard called my will to live.

I want to be there for them,
my soul needs to be present with them,
but when you have to box a heavy weight champion inside your own veins just to be able to take a single step,
you got nothing left to give to anyone else.

I'm stumbling through this performance titled life
not even knowing the identity to the puppet master pulling the strings,
fighting an invisible battle against a nameless warrior
and somehow meant to smile and bear it.

When do we begin dreading birthdays?
When does the count down to the new year begin to sound like the tick tick tick of a time bomb?
When do days become hours
hours become minutes
minutes become seconds?
When do we finally stop and realize that we’ve lived seven years longer than our best friends?

Time is a fickle mistress

She moves so slowly when you’re young
When you want nothing more than for her to rush up and greet you
Then
in a blink
She’s gone before you can even utter a “Hello.”

But how are we to appreciate something we cannot feel?
How are we to gasp at the presence of something we cannot see?
How are we to sing a beautiful melody we cannot hear?

I wanted to see you today.
Catch up like we always do, but don’t do enough.
But Time, I guess, had other plans.

Assignments were filling up my inbox, papers just couldn’t be ignored any longer, and I was tired from not sleeping well the night before and my cat had to choose today to knock over the T.V., shattering the screen, and my mother called, you know how she can just drone on and on, and then I had to stare at my fridge for at least twenty minutes before deciding the chips in the pantry will curb my hunger fine, then this emergency at work and this thing with my sister…

Then
before you know it
it’s two in the morning
and I need to go to bed.

But those are all just excuses, aren’t they?
A bunch of moments to distract from the guilt from not seeing you.

You see, Time is a man-made creation
not some external force of nature.
Sure, the sun and moon glide across the sky,
but the meaning of that was assigned by us.
The day doesn’t begin when we open our eyes
there are plenty of cheap coffee mugs that say otherwise
So it doesn’t have to end when the light in the sky dies

Time is not a fickle mistress.

She’s in the gray hairs that grow with our wisdom,
In the wrinkles that are carved from our laughter
In the aches in our bones from dancing just a little bit too long

We are time.

And I’m sorry
I’m sorry for not making Time for you.

If I was a friend to myself,
I'd tell me "come over"
and I'd lean out my shoulder.

If I was a friend to myself,
I'd have tissues in both hands
and I'd be kind and understand.

If I was a friend to myself,
I'd take my side for a change
and I'd create a safe haven
where my demons couldn't hang.

But I tell myself I am a failure
for getting so down,
comparisons fill my mind up with sound
I'd never be this tough on anyone else,
So why is it okay to spew
this endless hate to myself?

If I was a friend to myself,
I'd suggest we take a walk
and let the fresh air restore
what we had lost.