seek immediate emergency help
if you are hearing voices
having urges to hurt yourself
or feeling suicidal

but emergency help
won't always help

you can't call a hotline
in the middle of lunch
can't leave your job for a
week while you're in the hospital

can't stop everything
just because the thoughts
that follow you around don't
quiet to a dull roar

the dishes must be done
even if the knives are screaming
to be used on skin
the medications must be taken
every morning and not
swallowed in handfuls

the dog must be walked
leash attached to the collar
and not wrapped around your neck
and showers need to be taken
even while you feel yourself
drowning under waves of
things you do not understand
and emotional hurricanes that
threaten to destroy your cities

the world must keep turning
as you keep resisting

and you
must
keep
resisting

please
keep resisting

i can't say the fog will
someday lift and leave a
golden vista every morning
for the rest of your life

but i promise
it might be worth your
pain to find out that
some days are distinctly
lighter shades of gray
even when it rains

what a pleasure
an honour
a dream come true
to live in a world
in a time
that holds you

- p. winter

And when he does not love me anymore,
I will build him
one last altar,
and decide to burn it to the ground.

But will only get as far
as lighting the match.

Thinking about how he used matches
for something.
Sometime.
Probably.

I'll brush my teeth,
thinking of the gaps between his.
How really,
it's a great metaphor for the distance between out hearts
or something stupid like that.

But in the end,
it's not a metaphor,
or an analogy.
They're just teeth.
(That could never quite come together
kind of like us)

I will crawl into bed
imagining an alternate universe
in which we have started a life together.
One where I wake up and reach across the bed for him.
Get the kids ready for school,
which is funny
because in this universe I never wanted children,
but in that universe,
we created something out of nothing.
Something with his eyes,
and my nose.
A manifestation of the love between two people.
Proof that it happened.
That is was real.
And it was resilient enough to breathe life into a world
that only offered it death.

In that universe,
our hair turns as silver
as our wedding rings.
And each wrinkle,
is a space where our skin just wanted
to hold the other person even closer.


But here
in this harsh reality,
time only pulls us apart.
And we will likely grow gray
with other people now.

In this universe,
I learn to say goodbye
to him.


I will build him
a library of poems.

And decide to burn it to the ground.

I want to be left alone
                                                           ­     I don't want to feel alone
I want someone to hug me.
                                                             ­   I hate being touched.
I want to tell someone.
                                                        ­        People scare me.
I want to speak.
                                                          ­      I can't open up.
I want comfort.
                                                        ­        I push people away.
"I'll be fine."
                                                          ­      "No you won't."
"But I will."
                                                          ­      "What if something happens?"
"No, it'll be okay."
                                                          ­      "But now you're doubting yourself."
"NO."
                                                ­                "Oh come on. I'm a friend."
"You cause so many problems for us."
                                                            ­    "There's nothing you can do now."
"Don't do this."
                                                          ­      "It's too late, I've won."