It’s dark in here.
Shadows roll out of my eyes.
I cannot stop crying.
Hysteria’s edge lines my skull and I want to laugh but nothing is funny.
If banging my head helped I might try it.
I try on not caring, my teen-aged mantra. It does not fit.
I want to not care.
I want to take fear and carve it into a heart.
I plant my view on the sky hoping looking up will raise my spirits.
The moon studies me.
The stars wink because they hold the secret I lost.
Love becomes an angel without wings.
I flap my dreams because something needs to soar.
My tears weigh meaning into a story I cannot tell.
I take this edge and sharpen it using words to carve self out of the moment.
I am not any longer.
And yet I cannot cease to be.
There is a hole but it cannot hide me because I don’t belong inside.
I take belonging and hang it in the closet.
The story I repeat is no one cares. It’s a lie.
I begin again with, “Once upon a time,” and set the path with happily ever after;
Time has taught me there is no after.
There is only now.
But now does not make promises, never promises more than a moment, a breath, a second to be.
Yet it’s taking seconds because presence hurts.
So I am giving now away.
I am heading to then where I can let being be.
And take care as the gift it is, offer it to love.
And let the seed breed.
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Editor: Brianna Bemel