The way your eyes crawl back to
the same dream you put to sleep.

Their faces don't matter but
the way they hurt you hurts just the same.

At dawn, you open your eyes but
the dreamers are still holding your hand.

He might fill you up each night but
the hole still sits just below your sternum.

Insomnia is when the
Stars keep you up because
they're singing too loud.

It's the ****** enigma
of the ineptitude to
suspend your consciousness.

It's Gods gift to everyone but you,
displacing them out of
the realm of which you fear.

It's how you discover that the
monsters aren't under your bed,
in your closet, or outside your
bedroom door.
You discover that they float in
your bloodstream and sleep
in the pit of your throat -
and you can always find them
in your reflection when you're
brushing your teeth.

I was comfortable.
Perfectly content, in my own little bubble - held up so high in your hands. I was warm and protected.
I was safe.
You looked in your hands and watched me dance and sing, you watched me laugh and play and enjoy life, surrounded by the glass wall of the bubble.
But I was losing oxygen. I couldn't breathe. I was suffocating more and more, I was trying to get out...
You began to play.
Tossing the glass bubble up and down and from hand to hand - disrupting the peace. It made my stomach upset, like I was on this crazy roller coaster that didn't have an emergency stop button. And the butterflies in my tummy are going frantic and coming up my throat and it hurts.
I was scared.
Afraid of your anger - it came so quickly. Your thunder shook me from the inside out.
I was a little girl.  
Hiding under the covers, shivering, afraid of the storm. Yes, you cared for me you cared tremendously for me, but you weren’t careful. You let me go. You pulled my out of my safe bubble, and I helplessly watched it fall and heard it shatter upon the floor. I was enclosed in your first and you let me slip through your strong grip.
I wasn’t ready.
You let me fall when I wasn’t ready to jump. And as I began to fall and fall fast, I desperately reached for something to hold – anything to grab on to but
I wasn’t strong enough.
And at times you reached back down for me and I held on tight. You hung me from your gentle fingertips, dangling me from above the broken glass.
I was slipping away.
You were lazy, bored, too tired of holding me up and as you let your gentle hand drop, I started falling again. Again and again and again. It all happened so fast and unexpected. I kept falling and
I was falling too fast.
I couldn’t slow down. I just kept falling. Falling until
I hit the ground.
And boy, did I hit it hard. Landing upon the broken glass that fell before me.
I was numb.
I couldn’t feel anything anymore. You let me fall when I wasn’t ready, you threw me back into the world alone – I just laid there in still silence in the pieces of the mess we made.
I was lost.
Cold, vulnerable, confused. I didn’t know where to go or what to do. I closed my eyes and isolated myself in the unconsciousness of sleep – of dreams.
I stopped falling.
But life didn’t stop. It flew right past me. People walked by, people stared. People asked, people tried to reach but
I was running.
I  lived in my world of fantasy, of dreams and wishes, of lollipops and daisies and cute puppies that frolicked.
I woke up.
I slowly lifted my bruised and broken body from the cold ground, the air still moist from my tears, but I didn’t cry. I couldn’t. I surrounded myself with the people close to me. I moved through each day with them, I made sure to never be alone.
I hid.
I was hiding from the silence. I was running away from the silence in fear. Fear of being alone because that’s when it catches up to you and the pain finds you and latches on to every inch of your skin and ***** the life out of you.
I was running in circles.
Making myself dizzy and worn out but it would never stop chasing me. The pain, the hurt, the truth never stops following you until you face it.
So I did. I looked straight into the eye of fear.
And I began to heal.
The process was slow but it progressed and gave me my strength back. My strength came up through the surface of my cold and broken body. The open wound was sewn together but the scares are still there. The barrier you once broke down was built back up again, this time stronger.
And then you came back, reaching for me.
I couldn’t.
I couldn’t look at this helpless young creature that hurt me like this and turn my back on them.
I ran back.
I surrendered to you, I helplessly allow you to push me in circles and shove me to the ground. You continued to push me so low that I couldn’t feel anything again.
I was numb again.
Yet I ran back to what I had known for months.
I was out of breath
and I fell back into the place I found comfort and I was back standing in the pile of broken glass on the floor.
I fell to my knees –
I sat there in the midst of the mess and I frantically tried to clean it up but there was too much, I needed help. I looked to my left, my right, and all around me. I looked for the one who was supposed to always be by my side, who was supposed to help.
I found myself alone -
trying to put back together the pieces and fix what I didn’t break. I looked back down at the mess I was sitting in, and I saw my ****** arms and ****** hands and ****** fingertips. It was tearing me apart, cutting me deep.
I was hurting
myself trying to put it all back together – hurting myself more than I was fixing it. This isn’t my mess to clean – I can no longer hurt myself trying to fix what I didn’t break. I left the broken mess the way I found it, maybe even worse.
I didn’t give up.
I simply turned my back on what I learned I couldn’t help. I forced myself back to my feet and started to move forward.
I dragged myself.
I see the edge in the distance and I want to get there and you won’t let me. I’m trying to run, trying to escape but you won’t let me get away. But it’s not because you care, it’s not because you love me – you won’t let me go because you’re selfish. You want my comfort; you want me all to yourself that even
I can’t have me.
You want the faith of me never leaving. Well – I gave you my word, my promise.
You chewed it up and spit it back out at me.
But you want control. You’re trying to hold me in your tight grip and I’m starting to suffocate again.
I want out – I want to breathe again. You’re finally pushing me closer and closer to the edge and I’m about to fall off.
I’m scared again.
I’m scared to stand on the edge and look back at all that I’ve known for so long. I’m scared to jump – and leave behind what I once found safe. It’s frightening and I’m building up the strength.
I am ready.
I am ready to turn my back on all I’ve ever known.
I am ready to fall.
Fall into the unknown. I am ready for the butterflies to flutter all about in my tummy as I fall fast again. I am ready for the thrill of not knowing where I am going to land.
So push me.
I am standing here, on the edge looking down, waiting for one last push.

Eyes open
toes are tingling.
Under layers and layers of clothing and quilts
my body still trembles.
Get up, look out.
the world is lost in white.
White and grey.

No birds sing a morning melody.
No creatures scurry around.
All sign of life,
gone. Empty.
Trees cold, bare, and scrawny.
Their hunger aching for the sun.
Beating hearts huddle together
deep inside Earth's body for warmth.
Waiting for the light to awaken them.

Icy breath breathes down my neck,
tremors shiver down my spine to my toes.
I am exhausted form a sleepless slumber.
Every inch of my body aches for warmth
as it is draped in soft fleece blankets.
I fold myself up in quilts yet
my limbs still shake.

The emptiness is unbearable,
a block of ice deep in my gut.
Emotions travel through my veins, trembling.
I force myself to lift my hazy eyes up
to look for one last time.
As a hint of movement is heard through the naked twigs,
a sparkle reflects off the snow,
Earth beings to filled with life again
and a bit of hope is found.

taste the tears of my scattered dreams
dance in them, play.
or sit back in your so called throne
and watch me stumble my way through life
tripping over my toes
falling into the cracks in the sidewalk
chewing bubble gum and
blowing soap bubbles along the way,
making a wish every time I catch one on my nose.

If it pleases you to play in the ashes from the love
that you burn, light your fire.
Ignite my bones.
I'll rise up from the flame of the phoenix we created
leaving the ashes we yearn to bathe in.
Breathe me in, steal the wind from my left side
conceal me from my own oxygen.
Remind me how much i like the taste of air.
Mismatch my insides and outsides
when I inhale your bitter air because I can't find my own
and trap me inside the strangeness of my existence
because the careless mixture of of everything I want to know
merely doesn't exist.

the crickets have arthritis
so we're stuck here in silence.
no melody to lead us to our way
no morning song to wake up the day.

so the sun sleeps in
for the first time in weeks
and i wake up to darkness
resting on my cheek.
i untangle myself from
under this blanket
i turn to you and smile
a soft whisper lost
a cry that didn't make it.

restless eyes fight  the stupor
through this obscure enigma.
my mind’s overwhelmed  
my heart in a coma,
I’m trying to sort myself out
gather my words
when a kiss, simplest of sparks
turns into kinetic chaos launched
to the basement of my heart.

you stroke my face, a
hidden tear you smudge
i open my mouth to speak
but you’re too quick to judge.
so i bite my lip and  
lie next to you in silence,
moonbeams highlighting
the empty space inside us
inside me.
all because crickets have arthritis.