I wish that the cost of my resilience
could have been anything other than
my happiness.

nowadays, I cannot tell which is worse:
the pain I felt knowing that one day I would lose you,
or the pain I feel now that you're gone.
.
.
.
.
.
.
pain is the only thing you've left me with,
but I am scared to let it go...
it's the only part of me that you will never get to know.

I spend everyday feeling like a sprinter trying to run through molasses except my legs are twigs and my breath catches in my throat so I push and run and try my hardest but I can never move anywhere because my legs won't work because my lungs won't work because my brain won't work because my head is so foggy from the exhaustion fumes filling my skull yet I can't sleep because I can never sleep and the pills and the medicines and the pillow sprays and the weighted blankets and the mindfulness meditation doesn't help so I turn to drugs that stay just long enough to make me hopeful before leaving me empty and dry like the people in my life that I love so I stay alone and empty every night in bed hoping and praying that dreams will flood my mind that night but praying and hoping is never enough so I lay there and pray harder and hope harder and I try with all my might to push harder and harder and harder to break out of the glass castle and into the world but the glass won't break so I throw myself against it but the only cracks are in my bones but I push and I slam until finally I break apart into nothingness because
I
am
nothing.

there is a happiness that blooms
life sunflowers in a field,
like fireworks exploding in the sky,
like birds spreading their wings
and teaching their babies to fly.

but there is a darkness that looms
like a storm brewing above,
like a tornado's spinning eye,
like the moon sinking below the clouds
like a mother's mourning cry.

we cannot have life without death,
sun without rain,
there is no warmth without chill,
no love without pain.