The words run through my veins
innate to me like blood.
Thick, gooey flowing through my head;
my body.
Like when a nurse takes blood to save lives,
I bleed my words onto the paper to save myself.
To save others.
The way a person needs a pint of blood,
I need a poem.
I need words to give me hope.
Words, words,
words.

It's not your fault.
You were so young you didn't know,
you couldn't possibly have known
that your life was falling apart.
Ripped apart.
No mommy and daddy!
Just mommy.
Just daddy.
The foundation ripped out right from beneath the family, the home.
From underneath your little toddler feet.
How could you not blame yourself?

But it's not your fault.
That you had low self-esteem,
and deep dark thoughts
and a heavy heart
and a ball of anger inside
that flared up like a meteor
falling down to earth.
But you couldn't control it.
How could you?

It's not your fault!
That you cried and cried not knowing why.
And you blamed yourself
for every little thing.

It's less now.
The pain is a memory,
distant and cold like a boat
from the shore on a cloudy day.

It's not my fault!
Mommy I don't blame you.
Daddy I don't blame you.
I, don't blame me anymore.

I'll always have a loss.
But from the depths of the sea,
the depths of me,
I have found a way to heal.
And this time it is real.

Until you see the light
it's hard to imagine the end.

You can't see another door open until
the first one is shut.

For so long I stayed in the dark.

What we don't realize is that we have the power,
the ability to close any door we want.
We have to search deep inside ourselves.
Find the light.
Close the door.
Let the sunshine in.

Let. It. In.

Is there anyone out there?
      Anyone like me?
Who craves a love so strong and deep that it could melt the sea?
Who wants to stare into their lover's eyes until the day the die?
      Is there anyone out there?
            Like me?