I want you
and a home to come home to
or maybe to come home to you
or maybe a home in you
or maybe I just want you.

I really want to say
I hope you're okay.

I see something on your face, a familiar grimace.
I want to tell you, I suffer from mental illness.
And all too well, I can recognize your pain;
I too, have struggled under the overpowering strain;
The suffering caused by a malfunctioning brain.

I see how you've started to avoid and withdraw.
I see enormous stress in the tightness of your jaw.
I see you grasping, desperate for some alleviation,
from this curse of complete anguish and frustration.
I see you like this not because I wish to pry.
In you, I see myself. Allow me to clarify.

I have been where you are, totally lost and alone.
Hiding from friends and family, ignoring my phone.
There were many times I felt held together only by thread.
Eventually I decided that my only option was to be dead.
But there were no lights at the end of any tunnels.
The attempt failed, and I continued my struggles.

Then someone reached out a hand for me,
offering somewhere safe for me to be.
Longing for relief, feeling defeated, I said yes.
And looking at me now, you would never guess,
the darkness that dwelled deep in my head.
Today I'm better, and quite glad I'm not dead.

So, I'm here, should you ever want to talk.
Please, feel free, tell me to go take a walk.

But I swear, my intentions are honest and kind.
I want to help you take back control of your mind.
This is just a hand held out, from me to you.
I urge you to take it, and I'll help you through.

Peer to peer, I'm offering you solace.
If ever you need me, I'll be there, I promise.

Do not stand at my grave and weep..
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awake in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft star-shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry..
I am not there. I did not die.

I spoke to the moon and she spoke to me,
She complained about the sun as i complained about u,
She complained of their differences him being gold her being grey,
I too complained about me and u how i tried to be red when you were always blue,
And just like me and u they never saw each other too,
She said he was always late and he left a little bit early too,
Darling don't u see the story of the sun and the moon is the story of me and u.

These bruises and scars on my skin
help me remember,

"Yes,


I am still alive."

She spoke of dreams
and chasing shooting stars
under galactic blankets
that covered them warm...

He kissed her quiet
"Shhh darlin'
you're doing it again..
you're reading my
thoughts"

At times I wonder.
Do you ever
think of me.
While gazing
at the stars.
When revisiting
the past.

Or am I
just
a memory.
Long lost,
forgotten.
Buried
deep down
in the shards
of time.

some people
are only meant to be
in your life for a
little while.

i hope you are not
one of those people.
i hope
you are in my life
for a very long
time.

m.e.