My grandmother always said I look more beautiful when I smile but never thought to ask why I wasn’t smiling. My heart could only bring myself to smile back at her in return. I would spend every summer day I could at her house, swimming in the lake, basking in the sun, drowning my sorrows and letting them sink till I couldn’t see them anymore. I thought maybe they would stay at the bottom with whatever else was lost in that lakes depths. But I was only a child, and we think such foolish thoughts. I guess you could say my sorrows came back like ghosts with a vengeance because nothing was scarier than ghosts and nothing haunted me like my sorrows. I was thirteen years old and scared of the dark because it looked like silence felt and I was so overcome by it I hardly got any sleep. Then I asked myself what is sleep? Are we all just stuck in a nightmare or a dream, stuck in an infinite loop, a broken record, repeat. I wanted to scream as loud as I could but I didn’t dare wake the beasts in the next room in fear that I’d get beat. Emotionally, physically it was all the same to me because what’s the difference between visible scars and a broken heart, they both hurt. Sixteen years old and I’m staring at a rope tied in a knot, representing the hold my sorrows have over me. I tried for hours to untie that knot in hopes it would magically cure my problems. I cried in frustration and finally took a knife to it, determined to be free but only for a moment because the knot was me. I made a masterpiece out of the flesh I had come hate, trying to find some beauty in it but all I felt was sickness, pain. So I tightened that rope around my neck a hundred times, saying goodbye and I’m sorry a thousand more, ready to end my life when all I really wanted was someone to notice. And if that makes me selfish than at least I’m something more than a disappointment. But don’t worry I’ll still see you in the morning because I never could bring myself to commit. Eighteen years old, a legal adult and my only friend said he couldn’t love me if I couldn’t get better on my own. Said it was too hard to be with someone so far away even though I could reach my hand out and close that distance. He broke my heart and walked out of my life and the next day he didn’t have one. That day I came to terms with my life. No one could destroy me because I destroy me. And my worst fear is no longer ghosts, the dark, or the silence. My worst fear is one day, being as oblivious to my child’s suffering as my parents were to mine.
More of a story about my life than a poem but I still think it's poetic :)