There's a point of incredibly deep sadness when it all stops.
The world, the feelings, the crying at 3 o'clock in the morning it disappears.

I felt it last night and feared I had done something to try to make life stop but I hadn't so like many sad nights I escaped to dreams and wondered if I'd wake in the morning...

Not even the heart aches or longs for anything...like the brain finally one and now it sit quietly  in you chest. You hope it would cry like the -zillion times before to remind you it was there. But you get nothing just silence.

There is that point of deep silence where everything you wish would just go away....finally does....and it's not what you wanted.

I've reached that point and I want to go back...even when it hurt because now...I don't know what I even am.

Everybody's looking for something,
Probably a person or maybe just some feeling.
Everyone yearns, aspires, and hopes,
Holding on to their fictitious ropes.

We try to find it somewhere,
Look here, look there, look almost everywhere.
But maybe we've been actually missing,
Can't seem to find a thing.

For the longest time, it's been nothing,
And this is not changing,
'Cause we have to admit, that yes,
We're looking for it at the wrong places.

Never will I forget this day

I was 12
Playing in my neighbors back yard
We jump roped, played hopscotch
I was happy

One day we were listening to the radio
Singing, dancing and laughing
He called us inside to have lunch

His hand wrapped around the small of my back
I flinched, my heart stopped
Something was wrong
and I did not know yet what it was

He asked his daughter to leave the room
As I began to leave with her
I was demanded to stay
as the door locked, my heart dropped I couldnt breathe

He looked so pleased with him self as his eyes looked me up and down
I tried to run
He grabbed my wrists and threw me on the floor

What happened next forever changed me
I can not get the images out of my head
Did he know how much he would mentally **** me up?
Does he know the mental issues I now suffer because of him?

Did he know that years down the road
When I was finally married to the love of my life
and he would try to hold my hand or kiss my forehead
I'd flinch in fear?

Many times has my husband held me while I sobbed in our bed
He watched me suffer through this pain
and deal with me being so torn up inside
it kills him.

What really ****** me up
was when I was 12
and I learned that the world is cruel
You will be abused and hurt

And no one will stop it from happening.

A soul is heat for the body: sometimes a warm inner blanket, occasionally a scorching sublimation of white-hot blood. When a soul is lost, its body grows cold and slow.

My soul was missing, neglected through lack of use. It had left to seek a more hospitable host. Yours was burning visible funeral fires for the loss of love: your hurt was a beacon. Your fire-soul surrounded your skin, a thin blue haze of flickering pain. Your inside was cracking with frightened ice. I caught the sparks from your skin-fire and they kindled a new soul in me.

As my body became warm again, your funeral-fire burned dry. You grew cold and still. You held me for the comfort of warmth, for movement. You kissed me, and the kiss ****** my sublime soul out of my mouth and into your bones, your lungs, your heart.

Our shared soul-fire is now yours alone to hold; my mouth still burns, but my blood and bones are cold.

and I promised myself that I'd stop writing about you,
because you no longer deserved it.
---
but here I am, a month later, and I still compare
every new person I meet to you;
I still find pieces of you in song lyrics;
I still check my messages hoping that maybe you've changed
(either your mind, or your personality, or both).
here I am, a month later, still writing about you, love.
and I wish I wasn't.
I wish your name didn't make my cheeks turn slightly red;
I wish seeing pictures of you smiling with other people,
better people, didn't make my heart sink a little;
I wish I could convince myself that you're not worth it anymore.
---
we'll see how I'm doing next month.