Whenever I look down upon her beauty
a great sense of calm washes over me.
The smell of salty sea-air
I know that I will be okay
I can feel the wind in my hair, lifting my locks up high.
And that tingling buzz of excitement I gets in the bottom of my stomach
The sound of waves crashing against stone
Is this what it’s like? To be so enamored that one can’t help but close their eyes, and surrender?

The moment passes and her evanescence begins to fade
My gaze looks upward to the sky
An ocean of clouds with little lights seeping through the cracks
I reach out and grab a sunbeam

A heavy shadow falls on my face.
Another dark cloud following me today.
"Please, not again, I kinda wanna stay."
"It's not for you, you won't last another day."

My heart seems hefty, rotted by decay.
"Can you hear that? My whispers. What do they say?"
I shut it out, hide it, delay more pain.
It smiles back.
"Not another day."

I doubt myself.
"Maybe there's no more light."
I start to give up.
It grins in delight.
It's closer now, growing, eager to say,
"you won't last another day."

Now alone, hidden, stowed away.
Blade in my hand.
Tears on my face.
Blood pooling.
Opened poison from it's case.
I say to myself.
"Not another day."

I grew up here,
Not just in this city or this state,
But this house,
With my parents’ room down the hall,
The bathroom I used to share with my brother next door.
I grew up on this street,
Right next to the convenience store I used to buy candy from,
Racing to get back before my mom got home from work,
The same yard I’d wait in for my dad every night,
The same neighbors.
So much of this place is as it is in my memory,
How it was when I was just a little girl.
I asked my mother once,
When I was small,
If I could live with her forever,
Scared of strangers,
The idea of not making it home by the time the sun set.
The thought that I wouldn’t just be older,
But actually old,
Was paralyzing.
I’d be responsible for myself,
For my life,
For everything that happened to me.
I wish I had grown up slower.
I wish I still wanted to be here,
Now that I’m stuck here.
Most of all I wish I had become what I used to be so afraid of,
Someone who was responsible,
Someone who could take care of themselves.
I wish my parents hadn’t flown me home,
Fearing for my life and wincing at how skinny I’d gotten while I was away.
I wish they hadn’t realized the damage they taught me when I was young,
I wish they didn’t look at me with that guilt or shame or sadness,
Like they took something from me,
Like they broke me.
I wish they wouldn’t keep reminding me that no matter where I go,
What I do,
Who I meet,
I’ll always be that person I was when I was small,
Fearful and clumsy and irresponsible,
Waiting for someone to come home,
Waiting for someone to take care of me.
I miss when my fears were irrational,
So far into the future they were laughed off.
People used to think it was endearing that I thought about the future,
Now it’s just depressing.
Maybe I was right to be afraid.
Maybe I’ve always known what kind of person I’d turn into.
Maybe this will haunt me for the rest of my life,
Falling asleep in the room I grew up in,
With my parents down the hall,
The ghost of my brother lingering next door.
Is that sad?
Is it sweet?
I guess I’ll never know.

So Many Crossroads

I took a long walk out of my mind.
Insanity had so many crossroads
I could never find my way back to me.