Hi, it's me.
But, I mean, you probably already know that.
And you probably already know what I'm about to say, but now you can have proof of the words that run around in my mind endlessly while you enjoy your mothers pasta dinner.
Yes, I miss you. And maybe you don't know it yet, but one day you'll realize what it really felt like.
I've never held a gun between my hands before, but it felt like I was pulling the trigger, guiding the bullets through my heart as you watched and didn't stop me. As I placed the blade between my chest to ensure the only thing that was really keeping me alive was ceased from pounding and then you cleaned the weapon clean so I couldn't remember what happened if I somehow survived.
And although these are things that didn't happen, it's what I feel. And my feelings may be metaphors, but they feel far more than just a figurative language used to compare a thing that has meaning and something that is just simply there.
But maybe you already knew that.
Maybe I'm just saying it for the hell of it.

It is okay to be grounded
This is something i must tell my soaring heart
Every second of every day.

When the world seems to open to you
Like it’s yours for the taking,
“Oh, but you must hold back”

That is something that I wasn’t used to hearing
For I was the one who had to make my own path
And holding back was never an option for me

I was told to always bite my tongue and never let others understand what I was feeling
So the expression of words got stuck in my mind
And could only be freed when I placed a pencil in my hand

It is okay to be grounded
This is something I tell others
When they worry about where life may take them

I still have no idea where my own life is taking me
But every second of every day
I must tell my soaring heart it is okay.

This will all be okay one day,
And perhaps my okay is different from yours
But one day it’ll all work out

You’ll get the promotion you always talked about
And maybe we’ll fall in love
And have a nice colonial somewhere we make our own

But for now we must tell our hearts that while it is okay to dream
We can stay grounded for the time being
Until we both sprout wings and have the ability to soar

Restrictions were never a true forte
For those who grew up
Destroyed by the echo inside their head

But it wasn’t imaginary at all
The only thing that was a fragment of
Our own imaginations
Was that someone actually loved us

It was a day to day lie
We carried it on our shoulders
They didn’t actually love us
They just wanted to watch us

With tainted souls we carried ourselves
Through our own lives
The broken record stuck on repeat
The deafening silence of the needle

Scratching
Stretching
Scraping

Breaking

just like me
there is a shortage of time
or perhaps
a sensation
of running out of it.

much like you
nobody seems to notice me until I'm gone

the wind shifts
the flowers have already blossomed
yet the sun becomes too warm to allow pleasantries

and in a blink of an eye
you are gone
much like me
when nobody looks long enough to notice.