i wrote this today during lecture at school while i should have been taking better notes. it is a rough draft but this is what ive come up with so far: There is nothing more frightening than the undertow when neon eyes read vacancy and every cell claws at the synapse For I know that I am not myself right now but if I am not (which I am not) who am I? There are scars that bobby pins and pearls cannot cover. There are wounds that bandaids and tinctures cannot fix. There is pain that all the Im-sorrys and the I-love-yous in the world cannot erase. There are things in my mind that are not myself but will always reside there. I am shackled to my body and throw stones at myself just to prove I could feel something to break through the loneliness of being in my own multiverse my own star system though “my” implies that I belong there so perhaps I should use other words for there is nowhere I truly feel belonging a stranger in every sense a vagrant in the street talking to myself for I am the only one who will listen. And while I chip away at my walls and breathe smoke into the cracks my skin peels back to reveal so many bones. I name each one. Though they are brittle they still support my weight at least to far enough to carry me to you. And I would walk so far, if I only knew you could hold me at the end. Does it surprise you that I walk on through the pain? Does it make sense that such a broken heart can still love so much? Perhaps I belong with the loons where they will take away my razors and drawstrings and give me only plastic forks and lock me up in there. Perhaps that is where I should be but if you were there with me I think perhaps I could survive it. I used to just tolerate being alive for ending it seemed simply too much work. But now there is intent behind every breath and though it hurts to lose that only means that there is something already won.
Posted on: Thu, 20 Mar 2014 22:02:59 +0000