I'm falling.
How can no one
hear my screams or
see what holds me captive?
I'm trying to stay afloat,
and no one sees that.
I'm falling.

sadness grips my neck in a choke-hold
its hands cold and rough to the point in which
I don't know if I can escape with life left in me.

her hands lost their balance.
an unnoticeable tremor
pumped through her fingers.
as she waited for him to arrive,
she wondered if the time apart
made him a foreign place.

when he finally arrived,
and important tales were shared,
and his smile lit up her heart,
her hands found their balance.
he felt like a home again,
even after all these years.

that day broke me.
a part of me left.
I don't know
if it'll come back,
if I'll be me again.

but I'm trying.
I'm picking myself up,
taking small steps,
looking for the missing part.
I hope to be me again.

his words are stitched
into the fabric of her soul.
her smile is here to stay.

whenever she sees him,
the corners of her eyes
crinkle into intricate origami.
if anyone looks closely,
they'll see a soft glow
and maybe even folded hearts.
that's her love for him.

my love for him
infused itself into  
the natural melody
of my voice.
I wonder if he noticed.

they push and push and push you
until you wonder where the light is,
if there's an end in sight,
if you should create that ending.
you're tired of wearing yourself thin,
of sacrificing your health for others,
of not being able to breathe.

when the madness echoes
from the walls of your mind,
you extend your hand for help.
you may think you're alone,
but you'll feel another hand in yours.
they'll help you find your way,
and you'll be okay.

the glass dome felt safe
the outside world
couldn't get in.
she could see
that outside world.
she never wanted it
until she noticed
the first crack in the dome.
she sat and watched.
after seeing more cracks,
she touched the dome.
the touches increased in force
until everyone heard
her sharp elbows
pounding on the glass.
she grew stronger
until, finally,
she broke the dome.
she's free now.

when you've been trained on a minefield
other places will have you on the tips of your toes.
trying not to talk, look, or even breathe wrong
in case a mine explodes -
even if there are no mines.
to avoid the mines you've been taught to expect,
you compress until you can't move -
even if there are no mines.
your heart and soul lose air.
you minimize your emotions until
you're convinced they're not there.

yet you're allowed to take up space.
take up all the space you need.
your heart and soul don't just need air;
they need shelter, food, and water.
your emotions need room
to expand and contract.
your voice can project and flourish
until your confidence lights up the room.
you deserve spaces where you can just be.
not every place is a minefield.

your fears may seem like giants
you, on the other hand,
are reduced to a speck.
you need to speak to the giants
tell them what you know -
that they're trying to protect you.
thank them, then let go of their hands.
you'll grow and grow until
you're eye level with the giants
then, you'll tell them you're strong,
that you can handle this.
the giants will shrink and shrink
until they become specks.

a dull ache, 
a crashing pain.
wistfulness from afar,
love from within.
a smile with watery eyes
disguising the heartache. 
tales pass through lips,
minds strengthening memories.
imagining him at your side,
knowing he won't be there,
but wondering anyway.
wanting to see the past
and stay in the present 
and experience the future.
thinking about whether 
you're meant to be
or if the finality will reign.
weather, cities, 
conversations, the world,
bringing you back 
to memories with him. 
his special touch 
stayed with you - 
and it will always stay.

our paths diverged for a while.
experiences and wisdom made their marks 
weaved themselves into our history. 
self reflection and maturity 
decluttered the space that we now inhabit.

when our paths converged again,
I was reeling from the impact.
my eyes and heart voraciously
immersed themselves in who he had become. 
the smallest details were of the most interest.

the convergence added to our foundation. 
the shared experience was sewn 
somewhere in the tapestry of our lives.
the bright red thread of our meeting
will always catch my eye.

yes. to escape the compression
of my identity, my voice, my freedom.
this compression is restricting
my breath. I'm at 1% now. 

all I want is to breathe
without the trauma coursing
through my body -
to stay away from the
physical embodiment of my pain -
to confide in certain people
without being blamed, minimized,
invalidated, shut down, or told off.

I don't know if
the last dream will come true. 
but i'm waiting for the day
when the other ones do. 
that day will be 
written in my history.

but for now,
the hope keeps me going.

it's a massive sigh,
almost an exhale of stress.
it's the tension unraveling 
from knotted shoulders.
it's when hearts stop running 
and simply stroll.
it's the moment of recovery
between profuse tears 
and hopeful reassurance.
it's the drop of calm 
that spreads over the lake.
it's when the sun stretches its rays 
from behind the clouds.
it's the beginning of the end
and the start of a new beginning.