You cant save my life
I am drawn
drawn in my own pain

You cant make me happy
I am covered
Covered with my own grief

You cant read me
I am written in the paper
damped by my own tears

We live in an ocean of agonizing existence
Some have found a boat and would take it for refuge, who wants to get one’s feet wet when emotion is too deep and cold? Some can manage the treading, their hearts light enough to float, and hands free to take in the water and the air at once. But yet there are some in the waters less calm, where the breeze turns to raspy tempest and the dance of the waves is no waltz. They sink constantly lower into an ocean as bottomless as their heart within, where nothing can touch the surface.
what hurts more than a heart that cannot feel? When the floaters and sailors take of you and your joys and tragedies and you cannot even tell them it hurts because you understand emotion too much to fall in love with it again. I was in love with a world that had lost all sight of me.
and so I ran.
For in the rush of a run in its humble exhilaration, there is new life.
When the ice in the air in the winter in the lungs is melted and evaporates. When the muscle in the leg in the body of the you is commanded, is tight, but defies and works and relaxes.
You have nowhere to go but you are going. and it is miraculous wonderful.
And stop. I spotted a playground, deserted for the frost had taken it captive, and a swing invited me in. I looked around… and the world stopped.
Silence. White cold and precious silence and nobody there to break it. Beauty. The one true, undeniable beauty of nature and serenity and life.
Now that was the moment.
I realized that there would be an infinity of these moments of wholeness and totality of love that would fall into my life and I will be a fool to give it up.
And I felt again.
The first emotion to come back to me was revelry.
It was dark at the bottom of the ocean and night’s about to fall on the surface as well but I cannot grasp the prospect of anyone ever being ****** down by that whirlpool again.
So I ask you my darling if you would get off your boat and take someone’s hand and squeeze it like you squeeze the sour sting from a lemon. And there will be sweetness. There will be a waltz, there will be windows in the sky and we will make an island of humanity. I don’t know what crazy song is singing to me now but there is hope that it will be righteous.
And for the first time, I can feel it.

I've put away my starry eyed gaze
Which always got me into trouble.
Losing all touch to the depths of my soul.
Stars only appear under the Hubble.


It was necessary to let you go.
But I unwound all the string,
like a kitten too eager.
I've had love and pain.
And now I have neither.

Tuesdays are the worst.
I ******* hate Tuesdays.
Tuesdays make me want to demolish a building with my bare hands,
see, on Tuesday, I walked around with my bare feet.
I do that to feel better, but only when I feel like nothing will ever be good again.
I've been running towards recovery all summer, but I have fallen down on the Yellow Brick Road. The other me broke free from its cage, turned around, and started running towards the ruins.
When you collapse to the floor of your one-room apartment, and don't give a **** that screaming intermittently is socially unacceptable, and it feels like you are on a roller coaster that just won't stop, all the life force leaves your body, all the hope leaves your heart.
That's the one time you look at yourself and understand why they all see you as less than human.
A mess, a freak, irredeemable.
It's the reason why you haven't felt the warmth of another person's body in weeks. You've been keeping yourself sane with a checklist of expectations to meet. A calendar with no blank spaces. A radio that never turns off.
So when I walked around on Tuesday evening, unable to hold back all the tears, I left my flip-flops at home.
I came back to my roots and felt the grass between my toes. Let the concrete absorb the sadness, and I didn't feel so sick anymore. The earth reminds me that I belong here, and that even when I hit rock bottom again, at least I'll be walking on solid ground.

My heart is swollen from the deceitful kisses.
My eyes are blindly impaired to see the truth.
My lungs are breathing on a tight rope.
I could not balance the fate of forevermore.

Because forevermore... isn't the truth.