its  wonderful how
i let you sew yourself onto me
only to pull away my flesh when you want to run.

you have so many fun options
but i only have you
how unhealthy, isn't it?

so when you slice me open again
i run to my poor poetry site
to spill out words i don't even consider poetic anymore

words that my poor readers have to take in
when they should have engulfed you.

he sounded so annoyed
i thought that bitter tone could never come from his lips
but it did--a small reminder of my childhood

like that
i felt my skin flaking off
layer by layer
and i lay here bare
with no courage to stand again.

what did my therapist said?
not to be so sensitive?
the moon laughs tonight
at useless tears wasted again
me hurting my own poor heart.

we sometimes forget
from i guess a rightful fear

that growing old
is a privilege.

I can't explain to you my jealousy
of watching people laugh in a group
such genuine laugher i could cry

I can't remember having a purpose
of getting out of bed
to not cancel my plans last minute

This sounds painfully self-wallowing
but this is all I have
Until a better day comes.

I hold onto the darkness
like an old friend
sweet embrace of familiarity.

Today,
instead of washing down a cheeseburger with a donut
I ate something that made my body sing

Today,
instead of letting my hair get tangled again
I brushed it out

Today,
instead of wallowing in bed
I found the courage the get up and brush my teeth

my point is,
I am not ashamed of any of the things i do when i am depressed.
but i am proud of when i get better

My point is
i dont know when i will go back to being depressed again
and not brush my teeth, and lay in bed wallowing, and washing down fast food.

But i know a better day will come
however long
I did it once, i can do it again.

My window is leaking again
2nd time since you've been gone
funny how it never seemed to rain
when you were around
the california air always so peaceful

The first time i panicked, cried, and felt my world crumble
this time, i even laughed a little
called my mother
and sorted things out
the california rain seemed to calm a little

I sat in the light tower,
waiting... waiting... waiting...
heavenly father, i not longer believe.

The waves are violent tonight
has he landed at a harbor safely?
Even if it is not mine.

But i wait at the light tower
shining the call to home
guiding him back

No harbor is his home
but i hope he will see my light
and take me away to the sea.