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I am a feather adrift on a breeze.
Awash in golden rays of sun,
Floating on the softest of summer winds,
Free to travel but happy to simply follow the gentle push and pull of the current.
I am happy.

I am a rock jammed into a mountainside.
Visible only to those who look closely,
Hidden by dust and dirt and age,
Strong and permanent and there.
I am happy.

I am a tree planted deeply into rich soil.
Illuminated by the sun above,
Nurtured by everything and resistant to toxicity,
Bright and happy and free to grow stronger and taller and wider.
I am happy.

I am the feather, but I am also the rock.
I am the rock, but I am also the tree.
I float and I sink and I grow, but above all else,
I stay happy.
I miss us.
I miss your eyes and their sparkle.
I miss the way you looked at me.
I miss the sweetness of your lips on my skin,
And the tingle your touch left even hours later.
I miss us.
I miss everything we were
Everything we could've been
Everything we had.
I miss all of it.
But I don't miss you.
I don't miss your harsh hands.
I don't miss your hateful glares
Or the burning rash your hands left on my skin even days later.
I miss us,
But I could never miss you
I was never the type of woman to go crazy over a stranger,
over someone she had never met.
But with you it was like we had known each other forever - like we fell into a rhythm from a long forgotten past.
I was so desperate to grasp onto this chance - my first chance at happiness with someone else, a chance at being someone's first choice - that I ignored all of the signs.
I let you blind me.
I willingly gave you my eyes and burnt my barriers to ash, letting my protection swirl away in the breeze.
I let myself believe and be vulnerable and be weak.
You made me weak.
Then you crushed me.
I've never been the type of woman to trust wholeheartedly,
the type to let my walls drop and welcome someone in.
But with you I had no choice.
It was like I needed you to breathe, and by inhaling you into my lungs,
I let you invade my senses and take control.
I fell for your sweet facade and once I tasted your bitter truth -
I was awoken.
I had fallen for a lie, one well hidden and dangerous.
Once you finally released me from your haze, I had nothing left.
All of myself had been destroyed and rebuilt,
I was a stranger to myself.
And as much as I hate you for what you did to me,
I don't blame you.
The only fault here lies with me,
for believing that anyone could be perfect and safe and warm,
for believing that trust was still a sacred oath,
for believing in love.
One face looks out from his eyes, a pure reflection of his deepest desire.
Flawed skin, unkempt hair, thick thighs - he sees her every flaw and accepts  them.
Every scar and freckle, every strand of frizzy hair, every single stretch mark that appears, he sees everything, and still he worships her.
The clumsy way she walks.
The way she sings too loudly with the radio.
The sparkle in her eye every time she sees a dog,
He sees her, and he loves her.
Her flaws become his obsession
And no matter how she appears to the world,
To him, she is nothing but perfection.
Legacy is such an odd word.
Something to keep you alive
When your life becomes blurred,
And you need the drive.
But no matter with what fortune you pay,
It’s still with the dead you lay.

My thoughts are with the dead,
For among them I will one day walk,
And yet I hope that once I’ve bled
The living will not be wrought with midday talk
And the tears will surely fall
And more than just the babies will bawl.

With the living I find delight in space,
Watching the star soaked sky,
And dancing around in lace.
But I know it is all a lie,
Because it is with the dead I will survive
It is with the dead where I will one day arrive.

My days among the dead are here,
With them I now belong.
Now that I am more than fear
I hope my life was strong.
I hope my legacy is enough
For my life to survive the tough.
Written in response to Robert Southey's "My Days Among the Dead are Past"
Empty.
Cold.
Scared.
I sit in the cage I call a body and sob in vain.
Nobody will ever hear my screams,
My pleas for help will never even reach deaf ears.
Anyone who attempts in anyway to touch my imprisoned heart will quit,
Their motivation to heal me lost once they realize the true difficulty of that task.
The barriers I have built around me are too strong.
The traps I have laid are too daunting.
The prize, too worthless.

No matter how close they come to me,
No matter how long it takes them to realize,
They all leave in the end.
They all eventually understand that the trouble is not worth it.
They understand that I am not worth it.
So they leave.
And I remain trapped, cold and alone,
Building even stronger walls out of my own frozen tears,
Sewing my heart's new holes with a thread of broken hope,
And lining my soul with the fabric of regret.

But maybe next time will be different...
I'm a ship lost to the ocean, adrift on waves of nothingness,
led only by the current of my own sorrow.
I have no ties, no strong rocks to anchor me to the mainland - there is nothing to save me from the sea's harsh call.

I give in to its demands.

And with one last breath, I fall,
Finally giving myself over to the torrent of rushing waters and thundering screams.
I  savor the stabbing needle-like pain as I connect with the water,
I appreciate the throbbing numbness that overtakes my brain as the deafening noise grows louder until -

Silence.
And nothing.

I am lost.
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