my heart grew legs
and jumped out of my chest
they tried to find my pulse
desperately clinging to my wrist
it was hopeless
i am always searching for approval
when they said i’d never be good enough
i completely lost it
my heart grew legs
someone please tell me it’s okay to cry, sitting on the floor, in your packed up apartment, alone, and at four in the morning.
someone please tell me it’s okay to want to go home to your family and to sleep in your bed, even if it is just for one more night.
someone please tell me it’s okay to not want to be around your friends on campus because they make you feel more alone than when you’re actually by yourself.
someone please tell me it’s okay to reject sleep because your daily anxiety attacks are far worse when you wake up screaming.
someone please tell me it’s okay to not know what tomorrow brings.
someone please tell me it’s all going to be okay, because i don’t think it will.
someone please tell me i’m going to be okay, because i have never been this terrified in my entire life.
i’m losing it.
forever, always, and never
have little meaning in my life
a word that builds me up and
can crush me whole
all at once is
i forget that i self-induced my heart murmur
when i was thirteen
i look at the two of you
praying for that glimpse of
"i’m still in love with her"
i change my running routes
in the hopes of finding myself
right where i left off
i wish i could just
i can remember my second grade self
looking up at you
you made a mistake because
it must have been
i count my steps
because it’s easier than
walking with my head held high
knowing everyone can see
right through my bullshit
of a smile
i cry myself to sleep thinking
how pathetic i must be
to allow my life to revolve around
i wish i didn’t exist,
i pray to God
thanking Him for this bittersweet
cluster of a life
i have been so very
my prayers of gratitude
outweigh my prayers filled with
i take a step back
only to realize that
my view is so breathtakingly
i realize that everything
is right where they should be
i have to remind myself that
there is a plan for me
and all of this is just
part of my journey
getting out of bed
isn’t so hard
i wish my actions were more definite
every single day is journey.
every single day has its purpose.
every single thing has a reason,
we’ll never see them.
june of 1943.
65 years pass and i find myself standing in what used to be a heavily targeted city during world war two. i’m almost 13 years old, and it’s june of 2008.
i keep asking my cousin if he can hear the sirens. after he says “no” for the third time, i stop asking. i feel as if someone is following me through my stay in this town, that once was stripped of everything during the holocaust. i know no one can be seen, but a dark shadow surely makes itself known. never in my entire life, have i ever felt this alone.
this was a trip we took every summer, but this time was different. i couldn’t sleep. i couldn’t eat. i was the only one who heard the dogs barking in the distance.
i thought i was losing my mind, but i realize why germany always sends shivers down my spine, why our plane almost crashed in june of 2010, and why i feel so anxious, so tortured.. every single time and time again.
i have stood, where others have fallen. i have laughed, where so many have cried. i have enjoyed my time with my family, where families lost all of their ties. i have taken pictures of statues, of those once alive. i have lived and loved, where so many have fought and died.
i bought and read albert einstein’s biography a few years ago. a true german who said he could never forgive the nazis. of all of his beliefs, there is one thing (scientific it may be) that got to me.
"energy cannot be created or destroyed, it can only be changed from one form to another."
the negative energy never left some areas of europe.
for that very reason, i believe that’s why everyone built up.
apartments and skyscrapers replaced the rubble and ash of those forgotten, but beneath the heavy laid concrete lies every ounce of what was.
none of it was destroyed.
all of it transferred.
it all makes sense.
i was only twelve years old.
he should have never said those things.
i have yet to tell my parents,
even now.. at the age of twenty.
almost four months ago, we laid in separate beds across the room from each other. the lights were out and our conversation took a serious turn. you said you very proud of me because the only thing i never gave up on was trying. no matter how many times i messed up, i still kept trying. you said that you were concerned, but still proud. you asked me to promise you one thing. that night, i promised you i would do better and that i would do it for myself this time.
this past thursday night, i made a few jokes and even a rebecca black reference before admitting that i have been good since april. no one had to babysit me through it this time and i never found myself anywhere near where i have been before.
things are going so well for me and i am very happy with where my life is going. the only thing that had me worried is that everything about this is familiar.
i have been here before. i have actually had times where i have been good for close to a year. i have had this and so much more and i have also lost it all in a matter of weeks, but this time is different.
this time, i know someone cares and i know that i am doing this for myself. i know that i am a better person this way and i know i no longer carry any hatred for myself. this time, i can change my life permanently.
i owe you and that is the world’s biggest understatement. i don’t think i can muster up enough confidence to ever thank you in person because more tears would stream for my face than they currently are, but i hope you see this. i hope you see this and don’t have to question if it’s about you, because it is. you have become so much more than a friend and everything beyond a source of encouragement and support.
i would have never thought we would become this close and i never could have imagined the things you have done for me. your morals have helped ground me and have reiterated my priorities. your determination has made me realize that failure is never an option. your intelligence has taught me more than any classroom could have ever attempted to. your love and support have shown me true happiness and they have given me reasons to carry on. you truly inspire me to become a better person.
daily, i remind myself of the time when you told me to never forget that i deserve my dreams and happiness just like everyone else. i promise you, i will never forget.
thank you for believing in me when no one else did. thank you for always being here for me and for not being afraid to tell me the truth. thank you for never sugar coating the medicine that we all need to take at times. thank you for supporting me in track, my writing, whatever i take an interest in, and for pushing me to chase my dreams. thank you for everything you have done for me and everything you continue to do on a daily basis.
from our road trips to our “walking to class” phone calls.. from the ocean to the mountains and back again.. to the one time we fought when it was all my fault and i was full of regret.. i know these are the memories i will never replace or forget.
i know i have made a
friend sister for life and i could not have been more blessed.
i never wanted any of this to be cliche because it truly comes from the bottom, top, and the rest of my heart when i say i owe you more than you can ever understand. i love you with all of my heart and i promise i will never stop trying.
send me a picture of the face (where you close one eye) when you see this.
i can’t wait to see you soon.
i’ll always be your idiert,
you don’t cross my mind anymore. well.. at least, not in that kind of way. i thought when our gestures suggested time apart. that’s where we would stay. apart.
don’t you dare send me love songs. don’t you dare tell me that you want to ”settle down.” don’t you dare invite yourself over for sleepovers knowing no one else is around.
i grew out of you, but unlike my t-shirt, you’ll never become my sister’s
this is all so wrong.
i wanted to go back to our friendship. the not-so-awkward, watch a movie, hangout in the basement.
i’m tired of playing games. six years of “it’s your turn” is what really took the cake. we could have been then, but there was only so much waiting
i could take.
let me paint the set.
i was “head over heels” while you were ”i’ll take what i can get.”
well, you can get the fuck out of my life. you get the fuck away from me. you can find an ounce of respect and a little bit of fucking courtesy.. before you speak to me.
i miss my old best friend. you’re not this guy, full of lies, pouring out the brim.
you were a great guy before you ruined him.
i got into my car and pulled out of your driveway.
the tears didn’t come until i approached the first stop sign.
i should have kept going.
i have been manic for the last 24 hours and it’s about damn time. i can only pray that this gets me through my birthday tomorrow.
what do you do when your only enemy looks you dead in the eye and you realize there’s been a mirror in front of you all along?
shatter it and move on.
there’s nothing more i can do.
everything hurt. his eyes were bloodshot and his hands were in a tremor.
he took one last sip of his coffee before pulling his last three dollars out of his worn wallet and placing it on the counter. he left, just as quickly as he came.
the only line of parking spots were nearly empty. he pulled a lighter out of his pocket and reached for the cigarette tucked neatly behind his ear. she gave him a haircut before he left the hotel last night. he said he looked fine, but she insisted.
it seems like years ago. who knew separation came in such vast degrees.. to find smoke clouding his lungs and to find such sorrow between his teeth.
she has a government job. she has met presidents and has traveled the seven seas. the only time he’s ever traveled was the two tours her served in the army. he struggled.
he hated the abbreviations ptsd. he knew more about himself after he gained the anxiety. his complexion changed. his friends became his enemies. she was assigned as his mentor, but she became something more. entirely.
his jeans are no match for her suits. he has only known combat boots. her heels could pierce a pulsing heart. she’s so put together and he just falls apart.
to be continued..
i truly apologize for my poor writing. i have been struggling.
people always talk about having to choose between their heads and their hearts.. i have lived my entire life fearing both of them, hand in hand.
an army in which i funded as it rose to power. a regime i single handedly supplied. how can i turn my back on something i created? they say every captain should go down with his ship, but maybe we never saw the shore. maybe i created a submarine so far under that all sources of light are artificial. maybe happiness is a virtue i will never experience in the flesh. maybe it all continues to sink and i have already drowned in all of it.
i have heard that all writers are the sum of their experiences and i truly believe that is exactly what i am. my younger sister once asked why my writing is so depressing and it took me back for a moment. i hesitated, but i managed to murmur “even edgar allan poe made it.”
i never made decisions based on my head or my heart, for my gut has always been my best friend. the two of them blinded by the overcast my life experiences have concluded.
i am fully aware that my words are greater than i will ever be. i understand that it sounds ludicrous, especially since they are a major part of me.
my heart and mind are overdramatic.
i picture it as a lawn chair in the eye of a storm.
my gut reactions are my judgements and that is why
i find myself in trouble and i am hard to learn.
please excuse what i wrote above these lines.
i have had writer’s block for some time now and i think i might actually be shit out of luck here. i am not sure what has gotten into me. having strong emotions is what has always solicited my writing, but i have never felt this way about my work. i have never seen it as such a waste of my own time and effort. i think i have lost it all together. i have always been able to write, no matter the situation, but something has gotten into me lately. i don’t know if this is a mistake because writing has saved me plenty of times, but this just feels wrong. writing has always meant so much to me and i find myself on the brinks of taking down this site and never writing again. i feel lost and completely stuck.
i have no excuses.