You gotta stay alive

You gotta find balance

You.gotta get control

You gotta create beauty

And

You gotta know,
I'm here.

When you're free, when you're locked up, when your confused

I know that you want a different life
and I want you to know

That I know the darkness of the caretakers
I know the pain that was inflicted

Everyone may pretend it never happened
but
be assured
I know about the salt
the emotional abuse
The dark nights and the burning days

The hate and the love

Do not be ashamed.
Seek the truth

For the truth shall set you free.

I proposed the theory to you once that after a certain point we are the ones that lead ourselves down that dark path. Seeking out numbing blackness because we know that it's "safe".

I don't know whether or not you believed me.

But let me reiterate it again, for myself.
'cause I really need it right now.


The first time you find yourself in the dark void, you hate it. It hurts so bad. You just want to escape. You don't speak the language and nobody seems to be able to help you or understand because you can't articulate what is wrong.  

But bulimics, anorexics, and self mutilators know that you can get use to anything. They've learned that pain is subjective. You see, repeated exposure to painful and dark things breed familiarity and comfort. And even, briefly, a deep dark happiness. A childish sticking of the tongue at the world, a ******* and a ******* to all those that hurt you. "Ha ha" you say. "Do your worst. You can't hurt me as much as I do."

For me, submerging my soul into the darkness eventually became a soothing balm. Protection from the loss of happiness, disappointment, people letting me down, friends not answering their phones, husbands being jerks, not liking myself, not liking anyone around me. Happy and joy was too big a risk. Being hurt, hurt too bad. And I would pretend to pray, I say pretend because I didn't really want help. I wanted to wallow. I wanted justification for why it was ok for me to be there. I wanted to be able to say, "this is just who I am."

I am not minimizing pain, or the people who feel it. There are a million reasons for depression and sadness. And we even need some sadness. Grief, I'm told, is a necessary part to loss although I can't fathom why right now. Why must we feel pain? Why do we have to keep on experience wrenching and heart breaking loss day after day after the day when it happened. Why I can't I c'est la ******* vie and move on?

I think because the fear of loss of people, happiness, whatever it is we are afraid of losing, is debilitating if we don't face it. If we don't throw open the cage door to the tiger(figuratively), we'll never find out that it's the fear that keeping us (me) from experiencing life. Because life is pain, just as much as it is joy. And by trying to keep pain away we end up keeping the good **** too. And looking back, all the previous pain opened doors to helping others and helping myself. Perspective man, that one day there will be sun again. There will be light hear-ted moments not over shadowed by loss. And by acknowledging it's there, we can take back the power. Because letting people hurt us is often times our fault more than theirs. And when I stop focusing on myself I can see the hurt that my "aggressor" is feeling. We are the total sum of our experiences. And we have switches, and sometimes they get flipped.

I told you about my life changing moment. The last time I sat on my porch sobbing and asking God why. The moment my prayer changed to empowerment. The moment when I asked for help.

" God, never let me go there again.'

It's a muscle. We can't control what we feel. Sometimes we ARE sad. Sometimes we ARE hurt. Sometimes we ARE reeling from inexplicable pain and loss. And it's ok. It's ok to be sad, hurt, lonely, as long as we realize it's a temporary place, not a residence.

I told you,

I had to learn to run away from the dark well of perpetual sorrow. I had to learn the bad wasn't forever, and the good was only as far away as I let it be. Like a dream catcher in reverse. I had to let all of it hit me. The good, bad, ugly, sorrow, joy, and sunlight. I had to adsorb it all, and then release the bad, negative **** that I let consume me before and enjoy the good ****, knowing I will always find more. I've got to exercise that muscle, and find relief.  


And now more than ever,
today
tonight

I need to know there is the possibility that I will be me again, and have life again.

I need to know that your absence,
is not the end.

Tonight I'm like you
Lesbian sweater.
Beanie.reading informative non fiction articles and holding my cigarette that certain way.

Man baby I miss you.
I want to make lesbian jokes.
And freeze with you.

I would give anything for five more
Mins.
And one more laugh.

This puffs for you.

The beauty of differing opinions calls to me.

The fact that we can see the same problem and come up with completely different solutions is a testament to the human mind. Beautiful.

We should prize above all: each other

But instead

We are told and taught that anyone different is (1) wrong (2) stupid or (3) evil.

Even I , believer in one God can not believe that this is the way we were created to be.

Minds and hearts are each intrinsically unique and special. So why do we instead hate each other for beautiful creation?

Today we see enemies out of brothers, villains out of friends. Politically, socially, religiously    

To me it seems obvious.

My first command is to love my neighbor like myself

How could anyone be so self righteous to think that THEIR solution alone will benefit those that are not them.

I talk not even of compromise.
Things that benefit everybody can not be compromise but only the best way to love one another.
There have been times where every group has had good/been good.
And the inverse is true as well

What astounds me is we let the crazies, the extremist, the nuts, and the talking heads set the stage for hate; their only goal being the preserving of themselves and power.

Instead of rising up, we worship. And our neighbor becomes our enemy.

I do not have to agree with you my friend. And you do not have to agree with me. That is true beauty. If we were all the same, it would be tragedy. If we were all poets and lived in the words and only for words and sought nothing solid but our own lyrical melody then that would be tragedy. If we were all simpley content with what we had then there would be no dreamers and it would be tragedy. If we were all nuns/monks then what would be our purpose in life? If we were all only concerned with knowledge where would be our compassion? All elements are needed. Required for perspective and humanity.

Why can't a republican and democrat be friends?
Why can and atheist and spiritual be able to converse and love!
Why can't those who think they have nothing in common find common ground?
Why can't we seek a solution to the problem without hating anyone else who tries?

We are to busy pointing out everyone else's failures to unite and find the best solution. We can not respect anyone who has a differing point of view.

Why?

When we assume the other has no value,
We render them valueless in our minds
And seek to destroy them  

Until we stop and stand together
We will continue to let those without compassion or insight for us stand for us and tell lies and lead us astray.

Why can't we bond together.
Why can't we discover truth and solutions beneficiary to all?

Stand up my brethren. All the oppressed, poor, rich, Muslim, Christian, atheist, down trodden, confused human beings on the earth rise together
So we can gain our humanity
Back from the darkness.

I've watched you struggle and I know not what demons you've been fighting against. and know only seems to matter after you've won or lost.

Jacob didn't know who he was wrestling with at first, he only knew he mustn't give up.
just like you.
don't give up.
The problem with the past and with secrets is that until we confront the truth and deal with it. and win against it, and banish the lies, we will always be hurt by it.

So here's the truth.

Growing up was hard, even hell. It's a miracle that anyone survived. There was egregious wrong, even evil and too few moments of joy or happiness.  You had the first hand experience of it. I had the knowledge of it after. And to survive it, compromises were made: HAD to be made. Embracing the truth and letting it be known was too dangerous and difficult for children. So every one kept quiet. And then as children got older the instinctive habit stayed.

I marveled that you all didn't go mad. But I think you guys did, in your own way. Isn't repeating the same actions and expecting different results the definition of crazy?

If I have learned anything it's that desire alone to not become something does not prevent it from happening. I am my parents and their relationship every day until I mold healthy and better habits. I am the victim, the aggressor, the *****, and the bully.

Until I stop putting myself first.Being the one who does wrong or is wrong makes me into a monster.

And a victim is a helpless wronged one. Lets be honest, we're not helpless. We're not victims. We do this to ourselves.

I haven't been on speaking terms w/God even bore she died. I think the moment of greatest disconnect was when she claimed his as the reason for her destructive behavior. I knew God was not in this . But I still stepped away. Months later, when she was taken from me, I didn't blame God. part of me knows that this is going to be made into something good. And I know, that for this to happen means that he had to allow it.

But for me to admit that means that I have to admit she is gone. It means I have to embrace a world w/o her and embrace a God, who knew it would be this way. And I just can't let her go yet.

And I know that sound .crazy.

She's............. .

But I'm not ready for her to be gone. This is NOT my timing. And morever, since the diagnoses and break down, I have been waiting and hoping for the day that she would come back.

'Cause I lost her before I lost her to a sickness of the mind. And I just want her back. And now all I have her in is memories.

Now, I'm terrified that I'm going to lose You. But here's the thing. You are stronger than she was. She was sick, and unable to pull herself up.

You and I both knew that this was not her, that she would have never done this, not this way

and not to you.

She didn't **** herself to end the pain of the past. She killed herself to end the pain of the future.

She lost all hope.

And she caused us to lose hope.
But to not grab it back, would be worse than what she did.

We are stronger than our weakest moment.

And you are stronger than this.

Times like now,
I wonder what it would be like to never eat again

To give up

Lately I've been not myself.

Trying to keep from breaking down in all the inappropriate places. Those seem to be the places where the emptiness hits the hardest.
Church.
Birthday parties
In public.
In crowds

I look at my sister and apologize
I'm not the person I use to be.
I'm no fun. I'm no joy. I'm no peace.

I look at my husband and apologize
But he hasn't noticed.

Only around friends and family of my deceased am I able to capture snippets of joy.

And pretend.

What haunts me now,
Is the possibility of awareness that she had.
I thought she didn't.

But
If she did

Then I should have fought harder
Reminded her more
That my love for her could never go away.

But

I ran. Scared. Inadequate. Unprepared.  

And now I'm alone.
All of my regrets and terrible nightmares
Just sitting here. Smoking a cigarette.

Waiting.

Who will save the oceans my friend,
Who will fight to save the endangered?
Who will battle the darkness to find what is pure?
What strength will the rest of the world be able to draw
Without you soldier?
Who will take ***** earth and turn it into art?
Who will make victory from  awful death?
Who will fulfill the dreams of the lost one?
Who will show that we can prevail from this dark experience?
And who will stand with us, me, to find better
To find solutions.
To find others deep in madness and fashion a lifeline of hope?
By ourselves we are weak. Together we cannot be broken-dissuaded-rendered hopeless

Stand my brother. Or kneel. But whatever you do. Don't give up.

I sit and wait for you.
I remember the talks, the food fights, the break downs in which I never took you seriously. The accidental alcohol and the survival that we did.

You, so confident, so you.

I felt underserving of your coolness, of your friendship. But I loved every moment.
You may have mocked, but I never felt like you truly cared about my red beret and just said to take it off for forms sake,

after all, we were only 12 or so.

Shows, and 4 hour laughter fits. Wal mart on roller skates.

Through our entire lives, I felt blessed to be your friend. And I never wanted to put you into a box to be close to you. No labels, just true, honest, just being who we were


I have never thought any girl was good enough for you.



We had to grow up sometime, but I'm no good at growing any way but wider.
And I'm not going to force you or pressure you to take my calls, or talk to me. I haven't done anything wrong that I know of so our non-communication is more of a i'm-busy-youre-busy type of thing.

Late at night I miss your voice.

This is just a note, dropping a line, wrote late at night with burning cigarette, to let you know that I'm waiting always to hear your voice. Some people claim that boys and girls can't be friends because there is that base ****** attraction.

I think they are wrong but then again, you're not a boy and I'm not a girl.

These things I pray for you,
happiness
joy
a passion that leaves your breathless
a purpose
resolution
and love

There is no shame
in cancer

just like there is no shame
in mental illness.

Be strong my brother
take heart my sister

fighting against this is an honor
a badge of courage

a war wound in the battle of humanity.
Seeking truth and beauty

in a world of evil and sin.

Reaching out is a gift to give
to another

I stood there: laughing/crying
being
strong
for every one else.

what could my tears accomplish

comfort would not heal
what was
broken. what was lost.

I can be Strong. When EverY One is LooKing.

And then in the pictures, I saw the future.

The rewrites.  or "unwrites" writing me out of her past. blame and anger. of course you know, it was all my fault.

And I don't need comforting. from you. from anyone. All i need is a little acknowledgement from the people who loved her most.

that said, "hey, I loved her too. I know what you must be feeling."

Because even though I don't have that last memory, I have a million others.
i am privy to your secrets, her secrets.

and despite what you believe, you are not alone.

you may choose to be .

But this is me standing up and saying I LOVED HER TOO. ALMOST AS MUCH AS YOU IF NOT AS MUCH. I have lost too bro.

and I am broken
and feel alone.
and can't make sense of sunlight, water, or peace.

a cautionary tale. not a legend.

I no longer hate her choice.

I think maybe I understand

That she lost )1( freedom and )2( truth
The most important things to her

That maybe when she pulled the trigger she thought it was the only thing left. Her choice.

**** how my words , our last conversation have come to haunt me. But when I told her she had to make small choices to build up to bigger ones, I never thought she would lead with this.  

As for me, my regret is that I didn't make her feel safer. Safe to be crazy. Safe to be broken.

Not so much blame,
Bc hindsight is fifty fifty and I was Ill-equipped to know what to do and to see behind the eyes into the part of her that remainded.  

Hindsight taught me to look farther, love harder, and hold on no matter what.

But now, I can't save her.

So to all the precious souls barely hanging on this is my message: hang on.
Hang on till your nails bleed and your souls feel like they can't take anymore. Rest in my love an know there is hope. Some mental illness is just who we are. And some of it is evil. But I know we can overcome. To those who have lost truth, hold on to me and I will fight for your truth. I will fight for your mind and soul. I will fight til I bleed with you and cry out beside you and scream to God with you or for you.

There can be no life saving rope let down to you if you have already let go.


My dear one was a lot of things.
A believer in truth
A cutter
An abuser
A writer
An artist
An activist
A dreamer
Just so full of pain

But so full of hope and possibilities and potential.

I cannot believe that with all of us dreamers uniting together that we can not find cures or ways of dealing and surviving. But we must do it together and for each other and we can not do it if we do not help each other in our weaknesses and our strengths. No matter how bad it is. We can always reach out
And stop
Eachother
From falling.


Love.

I want a cigarette not as much as I want you back

I need a moment. One more and ill make it last.

Give me that second, before the gun started to smoke.

Take me back 1100 am
Before there was no hope.

I ain't got a time machine, ill have to settle for smoke

Drifting out of my cigarette. This is how ill cope


Come back, back when you were you. Relax, my love will bring you through.
Let me be the light house disproving the dark. Let me go back in time and stop what trigger sparked....

Cause she's gone gone gone. Off with a shot. Bullet to the brain. Heedless to the cost. Seeking peace from pain. Finding what she lost. Leaving me ashamed of all the time I've got. Because now she's gone.

This is the house.
Ruled by hostility
that still believes in slaves.

This is the house,
walls held up by arrogance and
false bravado,
lorded over by a tyrant with
ammunition:
bullets and berating.

This is the house,
cloudy day and night
despair billowing
from the dragon king.

This is the house
that would drive a saint to drink.
that drove a girl to cut.
that will driving the sanity from it's offspring
from walls held up with hate alone

This is the house that * built.

I've been waiting for you to come back.
For months.
And now it seems ill wait forever.

Heavens suppose to be a relief.
I'm not supposed to grieve like those without hope.

But my hope was that you'd survive.and I don't know how heaven will be like.

I'm not scared of dying but I'm ****** because we will never binge on food at grandmas. We will never watch ****** tv shows.

I'm pretty sure heaven doesn't have terrible "reality" tv.

Hope. Hope?

May be your hope is realized.

My hope is that ill wake up



And find this has been a terrible dream

Because this perspective is something I've never wanted.

This pain that you can not touch.
A joke,
That has no punchline
Except the punch to my gut.

A feeling, a moment I can never get back.

Half my soul gone
All my hope was taken


Gun shot to the face.

All the promises broken

I'll love you
To the moon

And back

But I wonder

How you could lose touch

And leave me

And us
To the world
To the wolves

Just need a little help
Recovering

But there
Is
No help

Tonight.

Mountain sunrises burst over mountain tops.
Suburb sunrises slowly rise over rooftops.
Illumination for the masses.
Sweet morning kisses from a 4 year old.  Soft sighs as she snuggles deeper into my arms.
"Yesa, I can make my own cereal."
The 7 year old is trying to find green clothing
Were matching to the aquarium today.
The suburbs and the wilds have similar morning noises.
Crickets still awake, singing their song.
But anytime I have a cuddly sleepy baby in my arms and a headstrong mini fashionista in my room
Is the best.

May be this is how it is.
We grow up and become less important to each other.

But it drives me nuts.

I would still do anything for you.

And you will only relocate
If it doesn't work out.

Kinda a little bit of bull
****


Not because you don't deserve to Happiness

Just because you acted like your motives were pure

And yet

Your biggest weakness

May be our down fall.

In the midst of
Missing you

I have been consumed
With your last months

The demons that had taken over
Tend to overshadow the better memories

Which is terrible
That wasn't you.

But that was the worst
And most recent

But today, I found bukowski
And your notes

And our pictures
"Master plan"

And I wanted to cry.
But also laugh

I hate how those few moments
Have come to define you

Even though they don't
Even though that wasn't who you were

Remembering the good
Is
Overshadowed

By your suicide.

And I hate it
And I love you

And one day may be
I can remember just the good

With out flashbacks
From the few months of your life that you weren't you

I pray for
That day


P.s.  thank you for the note

The way you know me, and finish my sentences.
The stories we have shared.
The look in your eyes when you are being bossy.
The way you light up when you color your hair a new color for the first time.
How professional you can be.
How silly you can be.
The barking laughter that escapes when you try to hold it in.
The two beautiful babies that you created.
The fact that you love rosemary lemon cookies (even though I don't)
Your refusal to be a boring grown-up dressed in boring grown up clothes
The fact that you still believe when we're old and gray and wrinkled we will live together.
That you never stop dreaming impossible or incredible New dreams (even if I think they're stupid or don't support you. )
The little light inside of you that never goes out.
How good of a mother you are.
How you refuse to stop learning even better ways of being a mom.
Your freakishly tiny and perfect fingers.
You're revulsion to stinky feet and shoes without socks.
How you let Lily try new (and sometimes ugly or unfortunate) fashion choices despite how they make you cringe because you want her to be her own person.
The fact that you never let me go.
Your painting skills.
Your ability to follow a recipe(one of us should be able to).
Your naive optimism(same as mine!).
Your love of bubbles.
The fact that at our advanced age we can cut open glow sticks and along them on each other.

Also entitled. Reasons Why I Love you.

Reminds me that your no longer wandering the globe

Reminds me I don't need to purchase cheap phone card mins

Remind me that I can no longer wait up to meet you between time zones

Remind me that you're gone.
And so my life is irrevocably changed
And
Empty.

They say that the oddest things smack grief into your face. No matter how long it's been
The oddest things
Bring you to you knees.

Here I am on my knees.
R.i.p

I've smoked so many cigarettes my throat is swollen.
I'm
so
high
from painting.

My dining room is different. Brighter,
just enough

to keep me from the edge.

I don't know why it pulls me out,
May be I'm
channeling her.

Oh darling,

Why did you leave?

It's nearly 6 am,
I'm alone.
High.
Suicidal.

Wishing for you and Charles Bukowski.

Wishing for happiness.

for joi de vie.

I painted.
It's nearly sunrise,
but I survived.

Good Morning World,
I lived to see the day.

In honor of you,
despite of you.

Will the day dawn that doesn't bring devastation?

Without you,

life is just so
dark.

love you. Miss you. Wish you were here. .

Instead of talking it out,
And working through it. We've just broken it more I suppose .


I'll always think you're worthy
That you're worth more .
That your potential is there .
You will always be good enough
For me

You are my it.
You were the only one.

Now,

everyone has someone.

And I'm self mutilating,
biting my fingers past the quick.

I use to do it out of habbit, not willfully or knowingly. And hated the pain.

now,
I feel the pain as the quick tears
and it hurts
but
it's not that bad.


Some part of me knows it is time to take action,
to change my life.

now.
before it's too late.


But part of me says "go to bed"

"be awesome tomorrow."

Isn't it funny
We blame them
For what we think we are incapable of doing.

I, we say to ourselves, am too enlightened to be like them.

And just like that, it's us vs them.
We've seen it throughout the years

We talk about the holocaust and smugly say, I would never.

We watch documentaries about Rowanda and think we would have reacted differently if we were the victim, if we were the perpetrator.

We talk about racism and pretend we could never.

We talk about teenage pregnancy, gangs, gun violence, abortion, religion, weight, bad decisions and tragic happenstance

And congratulate ourselves.

Because at least we're not like that.

And we pretend, like we don't all hold the potential for evil inside. We pretend that we would never make that specific choice that could change our lives forever. We think we know what that person who we despise was thinking. Was feeling.

He was racist, we say.
She's looking for attention, we say.
He just didn't try hard enough we say.
He was a felon, we explain


Condescension.
Dripping from our souls.

And we divide.
We invalidate.

If you're not for us, then you're probably black, or white, poor, or rich. Democrat or republican. A lazy Marxist or a greedy capitalist. A stupid religious robot, or a hopelessly smug atheist.

We refuse to acknowledge that for by the grace of God, or happenstance

It could have been you. Or me.

One of us could have made the life changing split second decision

But, too afraid to face the facts, look in the mirror, and confront our own souls

We blame. The system. The parents. The economy. The government. Racism. Elitism. The police. The schools. The church. The home life. The environment. The poor. The rich.

And we assume, that the answer is simple.
Or worse, that it's impossible to do anything about.

So we dust off our soap boxes and draw the lines. "I'm doing something!" We say. And we scream at each other for not understanding how we feel.

A self perpetuating cycle.

We think if we talk louder, hit harder, vote differently then things will change.

But nothing will change.
Until we realize,
The person needing change the most, is ourselves.

We let our communities die to make a point. We focus on things outside of ourselves to avoid focusing on the problem

We refuse to step out of our comfort zones.

We refuse to love
If it's uncomfortable.
If it's unpleasant.
If it's hard.

"No thanks, " we say.

To change our world, to make it a better place, might mean sacrifice we are unwilling to do.

We won't volunteer our time to help kids. To feed families. To help our neighbors.  Our communities.

We would rather just blame.

And how my heart breaks, looking into the mirror and looking out on our nations.

Does yours?.

In the silence, the quiet nights , do you embrace the tragic losses on either "sides"? Acknowledge the pain our "enemy" must feel?

Do you feel the tears run down their face?

Do you not weep for the heartbroken no matter who they may be?

Or do you stand, and mock their suffering?
Does that sick voice inside of you think they had it coming?

If it does, know that I weep for you, and for myself.
The hate we hate is inside every one of us
A darkness, that can only be obliterated by light.

." It is this: that love has within it a redemptive power. And there is a power there that eventually transforms individuals. Just keep being friendly to that person. Just keep loving them, and they can’t stand it too long. Oh, they react in many ways in the beginning. They react with guilt feelings, and sometimes they’ll hate you a little more at that transition period, but just keep loving them. And by the power of your love they will break down under the load. That’s love, you see. It is redemptive, and this is why Jesus says love. There’s something about love that builds up and is creative. There is something about hate that tears down and is destructive. So love your enemies. "
MLK

I'm not ok.
That day I lost hope, joy di vive.
So although everyone has been perfectly lovely and supportive (my real friends)
Giving me the whole world,
Doesn't give me back what I really want.

not that it really should.

But I wish,

that this odd thing called grief was over with.

that there was joy in the sunset, in the tide, in the smiles, n the hugs.

that I could stop feeling numb when people cry,
and finally cry myself.
I'll survive.

But I'm not OK.

That one day,
that was the day I finally realized that I wasn't important.

not to you.

Everyone was laughing, excited. Recording your first demo, that was neat and new and we were 16 and thrilled.

I stood back (like I always seemed to)
and you noticed.
You said, "sing along with us on this one. We want everyone to be involved."

But I didn't know the words.
Because, you hadn't shared them with me.

so I left, because I realized I was only important when I was bringing down the vibe.

and I flashed back to that phone call,
when you nonchalantly mentioned we were best friends
and my world brightened for years because of it.

just that suddenly,
the light went out.

Last night we were in the desert. I was alone first. Hiding from bombers. Then you showed. We hung out. Then you and me and b hung on to each other. I wanted you to stay forever. You told us both you couldn't stay forever but you'd be back. Then some strange occult counselor tried to tell me I was crazy. **** I miss you.

Deeper down the well.
struggling out of habit,
(nothing more)
It's dark, almost totally devoid of light
solid. secure
I can always return here
There is always room for one
always Space.
I know. I've been her before
But some how
I'm closer to staying

forever.

not easier.

just
  
                                        here.

3 mins now til I turn 26.

Every year a step away from that July afternoon of 2013

I wish you were here to celebrate.

2 mins now.


And I am waiting. Forever til I see you again.
It doesn't feel like a birthday without you.

1 min.

It doesn't seem real. In life I was always waiting on you. To call. To write

Happy birthday to myself.

Time gives both relief and distance from the heart ache of your absence
And also
More heartache.


Every step away from that day is one more moment I've spent alive that you haven't.

Of course, every step away is one day closer to when we'll meet again.

They talk about heaven and I believe
But I also dread the idea of what will have changed. Will you still greet me in your special voice
Will you hold me tight
As only you can
Or will we be so blinded by light that it won't matter.
If that is the case,
I'll mourn now what I won't feel then.

Life can be hell dear one,
But it can also be heaven

And you are as close as I come to on this plane.

You made the wrong choice but I know it no longer matters.

Forced to forge my own path
I'll never forget

And try to create a life beautiful

Despite your absence.

Good night dear one.
I'll always be your crocodile.


Pax.

I woke up this morning after vivid dreams. Trying to save everyone and running into a third grade crush.

A weird blister on my feet. One that wasn't there yesterday.

I'm tired. Over run. But I can't stop. Because I can't go back to packs and packs smoked on the porch by my self.

In my dream, a co-worker thinking I was asleep talked about how ugly she thought I was. But I don't think that she really does feel that way. (Not that I care)

Just that old self doubt that I thought I buried.

Just a race to go back to a time where I saw the meaning.
Where I felt it in my bones.

I'm not giving up. But I've covered my heart and soul in so many layers, to not feel to be numb, that it's taking a while to chip it out.

It'll happen darling.
One day at a time.

It seems no more real tonight

Then it did almost two months ago.

Listening to your CDs.
Loving you
Missing you.

And life goes on
Somehow

And it doesn't seem real.

She is terrified by commitment/scared of turning out like parents+husband&wives;/like we often do/scared of losing her independence/scared of a time when she won't have him around anymore/scared of symbolizing her love by way of marriage b-c what if he wakes up one day and doesn't love her/then she might realize that she's not worth it/ a big fool revealed in the eyes of the girl in the mirror./

                   BUT DESPITE THE LOOMING LIKELY POSSIBILITY

she can't live without risking that making that possible mistake/ToTrust/ToFeel/to possibly be made a fool of for the sake of love.

Sometimes I start to feel....


normal? again.

                                                                          And I begin to think of re(emergence).

But its a mask, a good fake.
a skill I'm not capable of

___________(feeling)____­_______

Fearing one day I will,
wake up too late.

                                     To change.
                                     To live.
                                     To be.

(suchas)

But I'm afraid that my vulnerable heart encasing itself so deftly has served as a prison and my capability to feel has dried and flaked away.

That day. When your blood was not yet dry on the concrete. Is not so far removed from tonight.

That day is so real in my mind.
The call. The frantic drive. Stopping and yelling out your name. The cop saying they had gotton a call d.o.a.  I didn't believe it.

Til I rounded the lake and saw your brother
Head in hands.

"She's gone."

"Like gone gone."

And all.I could think was that there was no way that it could be true. That life was inconceivable with your absence.  

And tonight that seems
The same.


So mom.and I break down going through your things.
And still
Find it
Unbelievable.

May be we've both changed.
I'm depressed, suicidal, and just can't find my way to happiness lately.

And you have broken my heart once again.
I want you to be happy.
Find your soul mate.
Someone who truly honors you, treasures you,

But once again,
you've chosen an abuser.
all in the name of love.

Honestly,
I can't ride this storm.
I can only love you one way, completely.
And
I Can spend every  night
heartbroken.

It's not safe.

I would explain it, but
you wouldn't understand.

You've been wrapped up in yourself for a while.
I just made excuses for it.

This is to say,
I wish you well.

I'm viewing it from my side. You're tired of being alone, raising two kids by yourself.

I can't blame you that you want happiness.

This is a love poem baby.
this is a wishing you well on your way.
Hope your dreams come true Lady.
I hope your love proves true one day.

Cheers.

So much I should be doing.
Well, pretty only one major thing. and that is sleeping.
But like you, like me I'm not.

I'm just reading old emails from a person who will never send them again.
and it hits me new, every day.

that I'm alone without you.

You were my soul mate. And now that you're gone all I have is an empty soul

Broken dreams and the words of my heart have dried up producing only words about you.

I battle the darkness.
Just not as hard as I should.

I would never actively seek death.

All I want is one star. One example one person who understands.

Crying, walking home tonight in 6 inch stilettos I looked through my phone trying to find someone to call. C was holding a baby cousin and couldn't understand. R was the reason. And S was with R. M was not answering. And you are dead. I realized that once I had so many friends. And now, I have none that understand. I

Am. Without you. Sick. And heart broken.


When will this madness cease. When will this pain not hurt so ******* bad.

Lonely I am.
With out you.
Please come back
Or take me
Either option works

When I get done smoking this cigarette, there will be no children to look in on. No baby giggles. Two little angels won't be waiting for me on the inside. I'm alone again. I've lost my best friend. And her two babies who stole my heart. Their stuff is packed, waiting for the heart breaker to pick up.

If this was good.
If this was pure.
If this was honest.

I could be happy.

But instead I'm left waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Waiting for the implosion.
Hoping I'm wrong.
Fearing I'm right.

When you lose someone to suicide, it's hard. Its terrible. But at least they are gone.

When you lose your best friend to a fake life that she has never wanted to a new person that has changed her beyond recognition
And you have to see her "happy" life pop up on your news feed

That's a different kind of hell.

Yahweh
Will you cry with me tonight
My world broken
No end of pain in sight
Will you lift me up and grieve with me in your arms
Will you be the friend I've lost
Will you protect our babies from harm
Will you promise me again once more
That your promise is still good
That I'll again hope
That I'll one day soar.
Take me high away from pain
Or give me strength to survive this night
Promise me there is an end to this
Though there is no break from pain in sight.

I thought we would be friends forever.  I never thought there would be a time when we wouldn't be. But I guess people change.

I'm harsh, yes.

But I'm still of the opinion that your actions speak louder than your words.

And the fact that you are willing to give up your faith, your promises, and your God for this pursuit of love, just means  
That
You are not here anymore.

The old you would have run like crazy
To help me.

To make sure that I didn't
Hurt myself.

But when you knew what I was going though. You simply said, "there's nothing I can do about it. "

The true opposite of love is nothing. No feelings.  I'm not there yet , but I feel as if its where I'm headed. Good bye.

When the phone rings,
I wonder

is it bad news

Always, I have a brief moment of panic.

I've never gotten the bad news over the phone. I found out you were dead on a sun drenched mountain top.

when ever I receive phone calls, I stare at the number, relief at unknown or business, terror if it's someone I love.


The side effects of living through your suicide
are the kind of side effects that anti depressants warns you about.
Depression
Nausea
Suicidal thoughts
Manic behavior


I was a better person when you were alive.

Now the world sees me,
wanting change.
Calls me naive
and tells me to do something about my dreams.

But what I am really asking for, is confirmation that someone gives a **** about someone else.
That Me,
and You,
we are connected.

I need to hear that someone will help.

I need to feel
like certain people think I'm awesome. Because I value them, I want them to value me.

And you,
you always thought I was amazing. You always felt like
I could change the world
and you offered
to
go with me.

I can't think about you being gone,
because I can't fathom a world without you in it.

What would I have done differently if I truly realized how much
life could change?

I would have held on to you,
not left you alone.

I would have forsaken all others,

now isn't that just.


Heads up,
damage control,
the sun has exploded

and I needed her to survive.

Everyone else seems to be moving on.

Bully for them.

But I think my soul died with the gunshot
that you inflicted on yourself.

What to do

When the words are trapped deep inside and they refuse to come out.

Communication break down. My spirit and soul anguish in silence of sound.
Drowning in sorrow and anger and love. A blocked valve

Nothing is getting out.

How we got here, I'm not sure.
But I hate it

Talking about everything
Without talking about anything.

Is this what you want?.

Not me.
I can't exist just to breathe.

And I can't ask for help when I don't know how to form the words.

And it might be my fault.

Mea culpa.
Let me be a cautionary tale
Of what happens
When you stifle instead of liberate.
When you let the sounds of the world
Overwhelm that small voice.

The most important one. Inside of you.

I felt it, like the gun shot wound in me instead
but instead of death

it brought your absence.

pictures hit the hardest.

now I'm floored
asking
"really?"

Sometimes I can almost hear your laughter, manical and alive. I think perhaps its what I miss most. If I could go back, I would stay and fight. I would say all the words I wish I could now. I wouldn't let you go.
******* for teaching me the biggest lesson I've ever learned.
(Thank you for teaching me the biggest lesson I've ever learned. )

All the beauty is quenched in darkness generating a ruthless pain.

Watching those I love self destruct purposely

Everything is blank.

And I am

Alone.

What am I mourning

Them or her.

Being alone
In a house full of people
In a house
Without hope.