Source: snaiperka.deviantart.com via Marcus on Pinterest

It’s dark in here.

Shadows roll out of my eyes.

Grief buries my feet.

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 try to fly but there’s no wind.

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