two parts of a whole.

Don’t believe the lies your mind weaves. You aren’t good enough. You are so much more than those empty words. They’ll never understand. Quit letting the option of failure -  scare you. It’s you that is the problem, that’s why everyone leaves.  Frighten you so badly,  Everyone would be better off without you that you feel more comforted  by the toxic lies you tell yourself. You mean nothing. Than the simple truth that you are everything.  You will never be anything. Everything to me You will always be alone, Everything I never knew I wanted. Because who could ever love a failure like you? It was if you woke me up.  Always the one to love and told to get lost. Breathed life right into me. Do us all a favor, stop breathing forever. Made me love myself, and in doing so - you.

Your thoughts are loud,  so loud,  I hear them too. But I’m not afraid,  I won’t shy away. Your monsters, your demons,  are no match for me. I hear your thoughts mostly - Because they echo my own. For what in this world is more beautiful,  more enthralling,  than when two people- who’s monsters are themselves, but can find the capacity to love hard, so hard that reality might just alter, collide? Maybe, it could be a chance worth taking..

a beat that only we know.

Presently here. Body only. Mind consumed  with thick fog.  Obsessing, depressing, relentless shadows. Me, standing right in front of you. Laughing, talking, smiling. And yet, worlds away.  A different person. When really,  I am lost  dancing with the shadows.  Tangoing with the fog.  Until the song fades,  The rhythm stops,  And takes me with it.

I wrote you a song, but you never wanted to hear it.

I could write out all the words. String them along in the order That I think you would not only Most like to hear them,  But what I hope would make  Your heart soar. Our at least pick up a beat,  From the lows it’s been living in. But it wouldn’t matter. It never has. It never would. Maybe it never did. Because no matter the effort,  No matter the melody that I could play With words and sounds Meant only for you,  I’d never be enough. And the truth might be, I never was.

Soft winds lazily breezing through the limbs of an old oak caressing each leaf  playfully pulling from the branch lifting some into the air for beautiful cartwheels the air crisp and new.

That is how you captivate me. 

The Wrath

For the crashing tsunami waves pounding o’er top your head, to the earthquakes creating spider like veins in your path that turn into craters at your feet. To the thrashing tornadic winds that threaten to tear you to shreds,  or send you reeling,  (who knows which the odds would favor more). To the voices in your head,  that come to be the sounds  of every demon ever imaginable. For all of this could never compare to you. 

Even in the middle of the most torrential Hell, you stand (I see it; you don’t) Strong Majestic & Beautiful. Even with the “ugly” tears,  The shouts and the piercing screams. I know you feel like the storm is waging this war,  and that it’s winning. I know you think that  you won’t make it.  But trust me sweet friend,  storms can never out wage the ones born of chaos.

We.

You and I.

We may fall.  We may break. The storm might tear us to shreds, But eventually,  it will end, 

and we will still be standing.  Recharged and victorious.  Because no storm has more power,  than you.

It’s crazy.

Positively insane.

That...

Every. Waking. Moment.

I think about you.

I miss you.

I question what I could have done

Differently.

What’s even worse?

You’ll read this and not even know,

That it’s you that I want.

That I would be willing to do and be,

Everything opposite from what you’ve known.

And now it’s just me,

Waiting for you.

Because you told me once,

You always come back.

Here’s to hoping.

Holding On.

Rapid breaths spread icy tendrils through lungs. Heart racing. Muscles aching. Uphill battles? I’m surely facing. You’re so strong  What they don’t know is  they are so very incredibly w    r    o    n    g 

Giving up means,  tumbling backward,  falling into the pit,  possibly never to return.

Forward is survival by any means necessary. 

Monster

Fearing the unknown is a way of life. An art if you will. Constantly assessing situations, places to determine whether or not  danger is evident. Make sure you look over your shoulder. Be careful what you say. Be wary of the dark But no one told me,  that the real monsters, come out to play in the daylight. They look like normal people. They hold your hand,  make you smile,  make you laugh,  maybe even whisper that they love you. No one ever told me that the real monsters are the people you’d never expect. I didn’t know that I shouldn’t fear the unknown,  but the ones who know me best. For they have the incredible ability to permeate my soul,  and saturate it with the utmost depression. Because these monsters are so very good at hiding their true self lying manipulating and leaving me where I would rather die than be without my comforting monster.

Does that make me a monster, too?

Maybe

Maybe Maybe, indefinitely, irrevocably, I wasn’t enough. Maybe it was the way I would yell, I would jump to conclusions, I would demand attention. Maybe, it was because I couldn’t hold my liquor, I didn’t like to cook, I bitched about your lack of cleaning. Maybe, it was the weight I put on. Maybe, it was the weight you felt When you put a ring on my finger. Maybe, it was the crushing reality, That I meant it when I said I’ll love you forever. Maybe, You wish I hadn’t of said “yes”. Maybe, you wish I had no cats, Instead of the 3 that I got without your wanting. Maybe, I should have listened more. I should read the signs. I should have trusted myself. My instincts. Maybe, you should have realized That even though it wasn’t perfect, It was home. See because home isn’t just a place, But a feeling of true bliss and belonging. Home in the sense that everything was built together. The foundation that we poured Through blood, sweat, and tears, Of getting to know one another, Our hopes, dreams, and fears Was together. The walls that we built to frame our home, Were just memories made into planks. Maybe you didn’t realize, That while you were out there second guessing, You were destroying home. Our home. Your home. What you knew, What you loved, What you built. Not just me. Not just how I would crumble, But everything. Maybe I could have been softer, quieter, less demanding. See, but I thought I did it all. I took care of you when you were sick. I held you when you cried. I picked you up when you were down. I fueled your dreams and aspirations. I told you I loved you, And I meant it. I told you I’d never forsake you, And I didn’t. Maybe, I could have been less harsh in the heat of our fights. Maybe, I could have been less nagging. Maybe, I could have done more. But definitely, Irrevocably, most certainly, I never deserved The lying The deceit The cheating The leaving The trickery The ghosting Or for you to consider me as a “maybe”.

Not 3, but 4

In the midst of everything, I never planned, never expected, it would be you. Honestly, it frightens me. Because when you said you walk away, I thought for sure that I’d: fall, crumble, break, or tear. All. Over. Again. But it turns out, what my heart wanted to hear wasn’t 3 little words, but 4. “I always come back” you said, and I believe you. So, in the midst of everything, from way out of left field, you gave me everything I never knew I needed. I don’t know what that means, all I know is that you have a home in my broken, splintered heart, that I didn’t even know was possible. You are the impossible made possible for me. Thank you.

Stay

What do you do when the words don’t come out right? When you feel one way,   Believe another,   And yet still think separately. When your heart soars,   Your soul stirs,   And your thoughts swirl? One minute on Cloud 9,   With a larger smile than you ever thought possible. Feeling the sun shine again, the warmth. At peace. The next minute weeping. In the dark. Alone. And in the gray – in the “in between”-   You find yourself wondering   Which one is really me? The Sun, the Moon, they are both so beautiful. I don’t know who to choose.   See, when you grow In the dark. Alone.   With nothing but the Moon,   You find that the Sun is.. Challenging. Different. Unsettling.   But also,   Enriching. Glorious.   Encouraging. I’ve known the Moon. The mesmerizing phases,   The constant cycle of change. The beauty that can only exist in the darkness. In the shadows. I am no stranger. But now,   I think I’d like to know the Sun. For once this time,   I think I’d like to be reborn, And stay gold. Or even really to just, Stay. Stay put. Stay put together. Stay out of my head. Stay myself. Stay away from things that swallow me up.   Stay okay. Stay out of my head. Stay calm. Stay far out of reach from the “What ifs” Stay loving.   Stay distances apart from people who selfishly love. Stay caring. Stay happy. Stay alive. That’s all I want. To stay.

Brick by Brick

One day Out of the blue You walked up to me, And I reached out to you. You pulled me close, While I just weeped, I didn’t realize, The sows I would reap. So later when you fell, and crumbled to the ground, I built you up, Without a sound. Instead, I took the bricks, That I had used to build me, Put them in you, And then you wanted free. I had expected that at the end, We would both be put together. But then, I realized my bricks were gone,

And that nothing lasts forever.

“I do not compute.”  This is the phrase I utter to myself and what echos in my brain. I am completely unaware of how to hold organic relations with people. Not just a boyfriend/girlfriend/etc. But anyone. It’s as if, I peer through the looking glass at possible relationships and I get so paralyzed that I can barely breathe much less make the motions to actually break the barrier of being strangers. I want people to like me, but I have no ambition to “get” someone to like me. Even in those off moments where I do summon every ounce of courage in my entire being and meet someone, what do I do after the term “friend” has been established? Are their certain hoops to jump through that prove that I’m a worthy accomplice in life? Or am I just waiting for the moment when this new friendship will find an exit ramp? I am unsure what is expected of me. To be quite frank, I’m much like The Saltine of the Earth. People only really care to have me around when they are either sick, poor, or keep me around “just because”. Not that they are wrong for that. I couldn’t blame them for wanting a little extra spice throughout their adventures. I am too unsure of myself to be any sort of flavoring. Would I rather be spicy, or savory, or sweet?There’s too many options. Too many variations, and the odds are never in my favor. Therefore, I repeat I do not compute.

being in  a relationship with you, it wasn't just a status. it was a way of life. And just like anything in life,  it comes and goes. missing you, isn't an option but fact I have to come to accept. But missing you as your entire being isn't exactly the only thing I miss. I miss your warm hands, and the way they would trace the outlines of my body. I miss the strength in your arms, and the way you would hold me close to your chest. I miss your heartbeat, a rhythmical lullaby that would not only put me to sleep every night, but drown out the noise of the world going wrong. I miss my clothes being in the drawers that you and I cleared out for my things to have a more permanent spot. Just like I wanted a permanent spot in your heart. But I guess every hello comes with a goodbye.

Religion, as I have been taught is not something you want to have. Instead a relationship with God as our counterpart is how I have been groomed into believing. Lean on God as you would your significant other, love Him for He has surely die for you and love all of his people as  He loves you. Usually when you hear the term "Christian" it is followed by negative connotations and a typical "Bible thumper" may come to mind. However, the Christianity that I practice and have been influenced with is not one that tries to point out the "wrong" or the "bad" in anyone, but to tolerate and love one another for their differences. Throughout my life I have learned that not everyone else that is also a Christian by faith believes the same way I do and in many instances have put mine and my fellow believers of tolerance and love terribly down. We are the "black sheep" of the Christian world because we choose to not choose a label for ourselves but rather just a Father to believe in. Because I have been born into this way of being and still have continue to choose to believe this way I have a profound tolerance for all ways of believing and of all people everywhere. 

I may have been taught equality amongst men in my church home and I did in fact practice it, but that does not mean that racial discriminatory was not encouraged growing up. It was not an uncommon thing for me to hear derrogatory words for people of other colors than I am. I was strongly taught the essence of white power and only marry/date within your race, that everyone else different from me was not of the same value but instead of lesser value. It was not until I started school that I started to learn that judging a book by it's cover could be very misleading. Once I started learning that just because you were not white (did not matter if you were African-America, Hispanic, Indian, Native American, Asian, etc.) did not mean you were stupid or hooligans outside of church I was really more able to be successful. 

It was not until I reached late elementary- early middle school where the school I went to was prodminantly African-American that I was the one effected by the racism. It hardly ever happened that a teacher would call on the caucasion child, and if she did it was only because a state official was popping in the door and even then it was quickly followed by another African- American student. The caucasion students were most of the time pushed to the back and you really had to try to be able to get a good education because most of the time the teacher would not even speak or glance in my direction. Because of this, the only way I could make friends and be able to get a good education I conformed to the other children's ways of acting. The more "black" I acted, the more friends I had and the more the teachers paid attention to me and in turn the better grades I got. So when I moved from inner city Atlanta schools to tiny rural town Rockmart I was often time the laughing stock for both the children and the teachers, because here I was what they called a "wigger". 

I think I love you.

I think that everyday I'm with you, each new day. It becomes my most favorite. Each day is a new small trip packed into a long journey I get to spend with you. I want to know everything about you. Your fears, your dreams, your insecurities, your favorites. I want to know your body, I want to be able to count  every contour in your skin on your hand and be mesmerized in the makings of you. I want to know the flaws that to you, make you imperfect, but to me make you anything but. I love you. And I'm scared that one day it will fade. Gosh, I never want it to. But nothing ever stays for me. Nothing ever stays, everything breaks. But here, now, I love you. And more than enough of me wants to hold onto you so badly and keep you here. So maybe this time I'll get lucky and you won't leave. Maybe you'll stay. 

Each day it gets worse. By every day that passes I get more and more angry. Well maybe anger isn't a good term for it. Because anger would make you think that I am actually letting myself feel the emotion then, at that point in time. No. I let it store up, thus creating something much like the hulk inside of me that just wants to tear everyone to shreds. Because what person really gives a shit about me and my existence? 

No one.

How do I know that? Not one damn person checks on me. Ever. Not even kind of. I have to go seek attention from someone to get my mind off of what is really making me upset in the first place.

Because everyone in this bullshit place of a world are like "oh no I'm not going to message someone first, I just don't do that." Get over yourself. Sometimes the very person that keeps messaging you first is really trying to seek your help. And one day, they're just going to wait and see if you notice. And when you don't you can thank yourself for their harboring of awful feelings.

I really just hate everything.

Every person.

Every emotion.

Every stupid couple.

and every fucking person who ever lied to me.