Did they not tell you that your sleeves were made for buttons and cufflinks, not hearts?
Did you tell them you are tired? How you lost yourself only to find yourself weeping softly into your pillow?
Did they not tell you that the light at the end of the tunnel is just a mirror reflecting you?
Depression tastes like wine left out in the open.
Frustration is like drowning in your blood, sweat and tears, on land.
Grief is all the almosts, could haves and should haves you cradle.
Anger is more like a storm; always leaves you wondering if its all necessary.
Happiness is said to be a baby’s laugh but I think it’s sitting in the afternoon sun and not asking why.
Loss is inevitable, almost anticipated, but still shocking.
Loneliness is comfortable. It makes you go to parties and find a solitary corner in the backyard. Its a darkness your eyes know.
Lust and rust are the same, it corrodes the soul.
Love is why we hurt. And hate with a passion that can burn the world and freeze the oceans.
My head is full of stories
Stories I pretend I made up
Because that’s the only way I can live in this lifetime.
Like that night when I was 8
When you came to my room and told me it would hurt
But I shouldn’t tell because that’s what family does
I died with every push that night.
Or the Day my Mom died
I prayed day and night for her to be healed
I was only six and I believed our prayers got answered
My faith in God changed that day.
Remember Aunt Mary
She was sick for the longest
The day you went to the stores
She told me to bring her a glass of water.
I saw her take her meds. Or so I thought
When you came she was no more.
Did I tell you about my 14th year
And how I cried myself to sleep every night
And my arms knew the razor blade too well
Looking back I don’t know why I was so sad.
Maybe it was the divorce and having to pick sides.
Maybe it was the whispers that Daddy wasn’t my father
Maybe I was just overwhelmed.