I find myself hoping-
Sometimes praying to a God I don’t believe in-
That these things will pass,
That they are just a phase.
It doesn’t always work, that’s why I have cuts and scars on my legs, and soon on my arms,
And that’s why my liver is so ****** up.
However, in the meantime,
I have some friends to keep me warm
And a family to love me.
People come and go, drift like the ocean,
And it hurts
But I’ll just keep my feet in the sand
And my eyes on the sunset.

I don't know who this is for,
Who's address I would put on the envelope.
I have a few people in mind,
But I don't know if sending this to them would be the best idea.

I guess it's an open letter to my younger self.
My 15 year old self who was thrown into chaos,
Who walked into a crowd of scheming, malicious friends.

Friends? You ask.
Yes they were my friends,
And they fought,
And stole,
And clawed their way to the top of a power structure,
Just to have it all tumbling down.

I was there the entire time.
Never clawing,
Or climbing,
Just trying to hold everyone together,
Keep everyone' s peace of mind,
While I lost my own.

What they never realized,
What I barely realized,
Was that as they played the game,
Learned the rules,
Learned to win and lose,

I forgot those rules.
Forgot is too nice,
I ignored them.

I lost my head making sure everyone kept theirs,
And when the dust settled,
When everyone took off their masks and assessed the damage,
I was there.

At the top

Alone.

No one noticed,
They were to busy pointing fingers.
While they were busy throwing metaphorical stones and spears,
I was placing land mines,
And trip wires.

At the end of the day,
When the battle was over,
It was me and me alone at the top.
The victor,
The one who had amassed all the power and influence my friends were desperately trying to hold on to.

I am still here,
Pondering my morality,
Pondering how ******* lonely it is.

Because while they built the pedestal,
Put me on top of it,
And surrendered without even realizing it,

They also isolated themselves from me.
And me from them.
And they have yet to realize the war they have lost.

While they were busy throwing insults,
Calling each other monsters,
They never even looked at me,
Or noticed me.

I sat there,
The most power hungry,
Conniving,
And ambitious one of all.
I sat at the top,
And no one even noticed.

So to my 15 year old self,
Who was thrown into the fire,
And learned to lie,
And cheat,
And steal,
Who learned to not only survive,
But conquer them all-

I notice you.
And I fear the day you get to show your true colors again.

She is in part
a viper,
a poisonous plague
upon my heart,
venom spitter
dark adder
damming me
from a distance,
crumbling my
resistance.

She is dangerous
but I do not mind,
I find I like that kind
of danger.

No one ever truly prepares you for your first heartbreak.

The crushing, earth shattering impact,
It leaves you breathless,
Barely standing,
Knowing that you should be able to move on, but being unable to.

But then you do,
Move on, that is.
It's growth,
It's wonderful,
A journey of self-discovery and worth.

No.
No one can every truly prepare you for that first punch,
That first blow.

The real kicker though,
the one that knocks you to the ground,
It's the one you weren't expecting.
The one that can hit you at any point in your life.
The one where you were too caught up in your own **** to see it,
To know your heart,
To recognize that the love you always wanted was possible,
It was right there.

Too caught up in yourself to see that he was there,
Waiting.
And you left him there,
Waiting.

You didn't catch up with what he already knew,
And now he's gone.

The inside of you heart feel full of ick and filth,
Like it will never truly be pure,
Or whole,
Or anything close to okay again.

It's a disease,
And you are the virus,
The pathogen.
The source.

The unexpected heartbreak is the one you should be worried about.
I can't prepare you,
But I can try.

what silly things are boundaries,
imaginary lines that tell people what they can and can't do.

i can not tell you what my boundaries look like,
for i never had them.

i was a child of use,
every aspect of me was someone else's.

so when my therapist decreed boundaries as my way to light,
as my ticket to mental health salvation,
i did my best.

it was pathetic really.
please don't touch me,
i said in the nicest most placating way i could,
i just don't really like it.

i tried and i failed.
for a child who was so used to achievement,
this failure hit me hard.

it was pathetic.
absolutely pathetic.
what was pathetic?
how easily those who were supposed to listen to me,
support me,
love me,
steamrolled that whimsy little fence i called a boundary.
they annihilated it,
dropped a metaphoric nuke on it with their sneers and greed.

no war is ever won in the first battle though.
so i will keep trying.

Most days I live a normal life.
Normal,
Average,
Unextrordinary life.

It does little to bother me.
In fact,
I revel in it.

For someone who has been at war with the world for so long,
I find that monotony suits me.

But all it takes is a slight tremor,
An unexpected change in plans,
Something that harkens to older days,
Earlier tragedies,
Battles lost and scars faded.

It doesn’t take much to call to the beast inside of me,
The monster that so fiercely protects my broken soul.
And I have yet to learn how to recognize when there is a shadow playing with my mind,
Or an actual threat.