It's Saturday morning.
3 am and counting
I've been staring at the
walls, ceiling, floors, sheets.
Anything my eyes can see.
I feel exhausted but I can't sleep again.
Instead I'm writing on this paper from
the light of my lamp.
I feel lonely again...
I walked by my sister's room and saw her asleep.
Stood outside my little siblings room and heard nothing.
My parents room was dark.
I'm listening to Nirvana and Kings of Leon and all
my tortured, pained music that can affect me
like no other.
The incredible pain and rawness you hear in their voices.
the twisted confusion in their lyrics.
This music understands me better than anybody I know.

I walk along these halls,
Bright, blinding white all around
My breathing quickens and tremors
in a panic.
I feel trapped in all this sheer
blankness,
I scream and bang on the walls,
begging to be released
I slam my palms into the walls of this
cage until I'm exhausted
and on the floor.
The only thing that is still ramming
and breaking and struggling is my heart.
Searching for a way out still.
Foolish thing.
The heart has no thought to know it's
useless and no eyes to see the
futility.
Calm, I breathe. Give it up, I whisper
to my panicked heart.
Ushering it to be still.
Give in, it's okay. If you stop, this will all go away.
I promise.
Slowly, slowly the blood in my heart
stopped thrumming and I bled out into
the whiteness.
Staining red the blank, empty
whiteness these halls were.
-Oh well-I think through the fog
-My heart is stopping, there will be
peace again.-
With the last few soft thumps of my
heart I smile at the halls.
There will be no more horror or
blankness or pain in here.
It will be gone with me.
I smile.
It's a white smile. But it isn't evil or
strangling.
Gentle and soft. Warm.
The girl is happily dead.

I'd like to say one day
That I'll be definitely, unquestionably,
without a doubt, absolutely, 100%
okay.
But I don't know if I can say that.
I'm happy
but I'm not.
I can laugh and smile
but it's not the same.
I can love
but I still hate.
I don't know if I'll be the okay
you want me to be one day.

I have the urge to feel fire
in my throat and stomach.
A bottle of tequila, a shot glass
and the music of a haunted man.
To lay back and feel the burn
is the cure to the hole in my
shattered heart.
I want to drown everything
I want to forget you and erase you
from my thoughts, but I don't either.
I want to remember every
smile, laugh, kiss and touch.
I don't know what to drown
myself in...
the drink or the illusion my
memory gives.

I'm always happy here,
or so I thought.
It's been awhile since I've been here.
Things have changed, at least for me.
We arrived today and I couldn't feel
less happy.
It's not the place, it really isn't.
It's gorgeous here,
with the open mountain air,
the deep green of the forest,
the multiple layers of the rock,
the deep blue-green-gray of the lake.
I do not doubt it's beauty.
It is not my surroundings, it is the
people.
I don't know some and don't like others.
I really don't want to be here with them please.
Let me be alone and away from them,
I have a strange dislike and disgust
with them.
Please let me go home...
I bet you can guess that isn't a place
either.
The people I love, admire and adore
are my home.
I only want to be with them and go
away from here, this alien place
to the warmth and comfort of my home
...but I can't.
I'm stuck here with you. With them.
These people who move
and are strangers in my life.
I have and want nothing for or from
them.