Sometimes I wish you would have hit me
because I could take a blow like that
and get back up in a minute
those scars heal like bandaged paper cuts
though they hurt like hell at first, you **** it up
your skin covers its own trenches in amazing resilience

Sometimes I wish you would have hit me
because I could handle a few bruises on my arm
over endless nights of hearing your words that cut like knives
but the wounds do not go away,
they get deeper with time and everything I try to cover them with
too, is covered in blood

Sometimes I wish you would have hit me
because I would not hurt a year after leaving
Sometimes I wish you would have hit me
I fear the easier one to heal from is a physical beating

I want to see the west coast
feel ***** SanFran sidewalks on my feet
and redwood forest air inside me
I want to glide the coastline
and drink expensive smoothies
fall a few times surfing
and laugh until I'm hurting
I want to see the west coast
and forget about my worries
I know it sounds redundant
but California calls me
I want to see the redwoods
and look up and feel small
I want to know the desert
and meet a blonde haired boy
I crave the west coast breeze
the sand between my toes
there is something out there I am missing
what it is yet, I do not know

I remember how it felt shutting down
not like when you turn off the lights
and leave a vanilla candle burning
as you read yourself to sleep
not like it feels to turn off your phone
and just listen to the waves hug the beach

I remember hitting the floor so hard I still have a bruise
and I remember 567 outgoing phone calls,
to you
I remember you telling me you hated me
that you never loved me back in three years
I remember crashing my car into a tree
going 103 miles per hour, the doctor telling me the impact should have killed me
sometimes I wish it had
I remember you telling me you wished it would have
in that same ten minutes but still not feeling
that same pain in my chest as the steering wheel
broke three of my ribs and the prerecorded message telling me
to leave a message at the beep was the last time I heard your voice

I remember shutting down
and how I could **** a thousand gardens
before I'd have taken enough lives
to have mimicked the feeling when I thought mine was ending
but those flowers would have died
I only shut down
I still live with it
every day and I don't know
how much longer I can take the pain
I remember shutting down a year ago today
but it still hurts enough,
I'm still tired enough to feel like it was yesterday

I ran out of cliches to use in my writing last year when you ran out of patience for my problems,
It was around the same time that we ran out of gas in the car because I got sidetracked again and instead of stopping I just kept driving because the song on the radio made me feel like I could breathe for once, and I planned our whole future when I went out to get milk but you were angry that I forgot the reason I left home, I came back empty handed and I still wonder now why you left me. It doesn’t feel right knowing that a year has passed and nothing that I have planted has grown or even budded, I starved some because I got distracted and others I smothered and they got overwhelmed and crumbled. I watched my lilacs collapse last Spring the same week you abandoned me and I’m sure I should have healed by now but it hit me only last week that I don’t know how. I don’t know if I’ve ever healed, or what it looks like outside of bandages and scars that I could watch turn white so I started reading about these homeopathic remedies for diseases I don’t have and I remember feeling like my body was going to give out every time I saw you in the summer and I blamed it on the heat but I spent most days inside in the AC. I wonder what the remedy is for that feeling because instead I tried to **** it and just felt weak. I would throw up and blame the alcohol and when my doctor asked me if I drank recreationally I told her no because there was nothing fun about blacking out to forget you and me. Last Valentine's day we had a bottle of wine and it only took me a cup to start crying and I remember you telling me you were disappointed when I didn't want to have *** which should have made me upset but I think what actually did was the fact that three months later I could drink an entire handle of ***** before throwing up and another half before I gave up on trying to kick this feeling that you might come back some day or the thought that I would take you back instantly when you never deserved me.  I know that and still wonder why I feel so empty when I see old pictures of us in our teens.

I'm stuck inside myself
I got scared and called for help
but a year of pushing friends away
left me yelling to nobody
I missed all of my exits and now
the road looks unclear before me
I've forgotten what I learned in driving lessons
and I keep seeing signs of you and me

I'm stuck inside myself
waited too long to ask for help
a year of deviating healing
and speeding down roads I carved out of skin
I should have shed months ago,
how will I know?
What does healing look like?
This intrapersonal fight has fogged my eyesight,
and the roads are snowy now since it's winter again,
I fear I won't ever win,
this intrapersonal warfare has left me on the field,
wounded and silent, afraid to reach out,
I fear I might not ever know what it's like to heal

I remember a year ago
like it was last night
and I was searching our empty fridge
for anything to fill the void I could
barely identify
I worked out for hours
and negated progress with
entire boxes of granola bars
and laying in bed for days
man, I remember like it was yesterday
but I forgot how much, in that time
I have changed

A year ago I begged for a reason to stay
Today, I create it every day
I talk to God in new and scary ways
A year ago, fear plagued my mind,
Today, I value time
for what it brings me in the form of healing
though it does not always look like so,
but, oh,
how I have changed

A year ago, my tank was empty and I was jaded
today, I fuel my body and am thankful
that with each choice I make from sunrise to set,
I can mold my life and make myself the best,

or better than I was a year ago, at least