people come and go

sometimes my heart feels the ache of all of your absences.

It's crazy how people come in and out of our lives. some are but a flash, others seeming constants til one day we realize they faded away. Some are still there but in a shadow of the capacity they once were. others come and leave in a whirlwind.

The truth of the matter is I don't believe in forever, nor do I dare to count on anyone always being there (even myself). I open my heart to new people, knowing someday there will be pain (because I'm too aware to fool myself), but knowing if I ran from the pain I'd miss out on life and that'd be the biggest tragedy.

I don't want to stop feeling deeply, nor do I want to spend my life closed off out of fear of the pain that will come anyway and miss all the good in the process.

 I feel all of you who have at any point really mattered to me,  sometimes the heartache feels too great, but I know all of you have helped shape me and I know I carry all of you in my soul.

Life's too big an adventure to miss the future because were always wishing for the past.

you're all with me in a way and I'm grateful for whatever time we had...

“I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately, I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, To put to rout all that was not life and not when I had come to die Discover that I had not lived.” Henry David Thoreau

The rain is tapping against the window
All at once begging my to come out and play
And driving me further into
the depths of warm covers
And a comfortable bed
I’m restless
I am exhausted
I find myself hurting
Drowning
Echoing
In emptiness
My body, my heart
Ask where you are
Not with a desire for knowledge
But with an aching
A need for you to be here with me
Whether playing in the rain
Or drawing ever closer to each other’s warmth
My mind of course knows you’re working
Or doing some other sensible, much needed thing
But that doesn’t change
Nor cure this ever-longing agony
Even together
You seem out of reach
Distant
Disconnected
And I am trapped here in emotional indecision
Restless
Exhausted
And aching
for you

Afraid to Meet your Gaze

I’m afraid to meet your gaze
To give you a chance
To glimpse the craziness in my head
The fluttering of my heart
The churnings in my soul
There’s so much
Too much
Inside
That I’m trying to keep hidden
From the eyes of the world
Afraid for their reaction
Their judgment
Their ousting me
Deeming me of unworthy
I feel too different
To be allowed
Wrong
So I pretend
To be anything but me
And don’t quite meet your eyes
Because I’d be too vulnerable
Too seen
So trembling I turn away
'cause you already know too much
And I fear
Already see me
For me

pain filled eyes

I look at your scars
And then at your kind face
With its pain-filled eyes
And I know
We both see
Each other’s damaged souls
No words need to pass our lips
That look says it all
We are the walking-wounded
We can hide our pain from everyone
Behind our bright smiles
But we few see
That it never reaches our eyes
Oh our pain-filled eyes
That’s how we spot each other a mile away
I pause a moment in acknowledgement
And watch the glimmer of recognition
Come across your face
For that moment we are not alone
And then in the next it’s gone
As we part
Wordlessly
Not daring to truly let another in
No matter how much common ground
Lay between us
Seen in those pain-filled eyes

I was once free

I was once free
Once able to breathe
Each breath with quiet joy
Grateful to be alive
The world was endless possibility
Life had ample opportunity
And I could do anything
And I not only believed this
But knew it on a core level
But slowly I was chained down
Link by link
Shackle by heavy shackle
I let myself be captured
Beaten
Abused
Tortured
Into believing this
Hell
Is all I deserve
All I’ll ever have
To the point where
It is I adding most of the chains
These days
Afraid to do anything else
Afraid to be free
         again

needing

I don’t know how to need
Don’t know how to be ok
With needing
Particularly this much
Can it be safe
To rely on another
Can it be ok
To be this vulnerable
Can I be worth
Being taken care of
Worth the time
Worth the effort
The inconvenience
Can I trust
That this willingness
 to take care of me
that it being ok
for me to need
can be done out of genuine caring
that I have inherent worth
that I won’t be punished
that not everyone is just waiting
for an opening to hurt me.

I am nothing more than a fool
love is that all consuming yearning
which I neither understand
nor know how to recognize
I search and search and search for it
looking for it above all other things
Yet all I find is sex, control, addiction and pain
the kind of love that I seek
if I were honest with myself
is that which I should find within
acceptance, esteem, compassion and kindness
if I could give myself these things
I'd have a chance
   a chance
of real, intimate, life affirming love
and, perhaps, the wisdom to recognize it

stuck on repeat

When a song gets stuck in my head
It only does so til I’ve heard the whole song
In its entirety
Like the repetition of the part
Over and over again
Is my mind’s way of solving a mystery
How all the pieces fit together
To form a whole
And it doesn’t give up
Until it succeeds
In seeing the big picture
 
I think in some ways it does that with other things too
Words said to me that don’t quite make sense
Emotionally
Actions that leave me stunned
Traumas.
I repeat them over and over
In my mind
Trying to make sense
Of things that don’t

Trying to understand

How this all came to be
How I came to be
My mind is trying to make logical sense
Of a disconnect
Constantly
unconsciously

when there is no CD I can play

no poem to be read
no picture to be seen
nothing to be completed
that’s outside my head
it just plays over and over
in a kind of torment
trying so desperately
to understand

I’m trying to understand

Something
That doesn’t make sense
No matter how much I want it to
It just is
Just was

And for the most part

Wasn’t my fault
No matter how much
I wish I had had that kind of control
It wasn’t my fault
And it wasn’t me
That didn’t make sense

But I’m the only one

Who seems to be
Stuck on repeat

defenses

Defenses
I built a fortress
made of layer after layer
of solid brick
in an attempt
to protect myself
from the world.

I hid in the center,
feeling safe within
my lonely castle,
comforted with
the knowledge
that there was no way
anyone could see
the embarrassing truth
that is my being.

But one day the walls began
to crumble around me,
I franticly tried save them,
to rebuild,
but the bricks turned to dust
in my trembling hands
and blew away in the wind.
I could do nothing,
nothing,
but stand there
in my naked truth
with my hands
over my face,
trying desperately
to hide myself
from the harsh eyes
of the world,
but it is no use,
you have already seen me.

not ready

Not Ready
Is it crazy that I‟m not ready
For my scars to fully fade
Not ready to lose that identity
And it‟s voice of pain
I still long for its sweet searing
The focus of a sharp blade
The release in watching blood flowing freely
I‟m not ready to say I‟m ok I don‟t need
This brutal voice anymore
Not ready to forget
Not ready to forgive
Even myself
Especially myself
But they still fade
And I still hesitate to add more
And life goes on

some days I just want to scream. what do I do with all of this? all this pain and fear and anger? with all these memories and scars... and wounds? I didn't deserve even half of it...

I remember not distant enough screams
smashing glass
deafening chaos
followed by
silence that shattered

I remember hiding
trying to disappear
pretending I never existed

can’t tell you how often
I wished I had the power
to uncreate myself

I remember holding in my arms
a shaking child
his tears soaking my shirt
as I rocked and hummed
trying so hard
to hold it in
and not fall apart

I remember the pain
the loneliness
the inability to speak
or do anything about it
the feeling of being a helpless child
needing to act like a together adult

and now I sit here tearing up
blood stained and urine soiled carpet
with the smell of horror in my nostrils
patching holes punched through dulled walls in rage
scraping pealing paint
adding a layer of fresh color
with waves of memories crashing over me
with a sickness in my stomach
as an adult trying to make this hellhole
into someone else’s dream home
God I hate being here

I wonder if they’ll be able to sense
the pain that haunts this house
beneath the freshly painted walls
and newly carpeted floors
the rooms cry and scream
I cry

I cry for all the secrets I’ve kept
and continue to keep
for all the pain I never stopped
or even tried to
for what happened in silence
in the deep of night
that still goes unknown
to all but three

I really hate being here
revisiting hell
over and over again
but finally this is the last time
one more coat of paint
to this tiny room
and I can leave it behind forever
as only a memory
only a memory

(if it could ever be only that)