Go wash your heart in the river til the water comes clear.
In a dream, I sat on a deserted beach missing it's ocean, with twilight draped over me like a warm washcloth. My frustrations and fears were sweating from my pores, saturating the night air with an animalistic panic.
What was keeping my family from returning for me? Wouldn't they have anticipated my anxiety? Why would they overlook my grievances?
I desperately did not want to be outside when darkness came swooping over my head like an enormous crow with outstretched wings.
I was alone without a horizon to focus on, without a horizon to steady my breathing.
I was without a fixed point. Soon I was alone without a light source.
Empty spaces have always done a excellent job in suffocating me.
In a dream, instead of making an effort to alleviate my fears, I sat as still and small as possible.
Darkness marched in through my mouth and eyes.
In a dream it spread like cancer through my body, turning me to stone where the weary crow finally perched.
I knew my family was never going to return, and I knew the sun would never rise because I no longer had use of my eyes.
In a dream I never woke up.
I was polished down to individual grains of sand to blend in with Hells surroundings.
With every thousand grains of my sun-bleached heart, I knew I lay rubbing against the previous waves of all my previous nightmares.
I had become my biggest fear; this was my punishment.
I woke up to the darkness of a strangers bedroom. I was still panicked; my heart felt paper thin and the vibrations were strangely disturbing. I sat sweating in the blue glow of the apartment.
I searched for comfort but knew I was shorthanded going into this.
I searched for a cure but came up with more expensive diseases to worry about.
Abandonment issues? That sounds like a dead end retail job with a studio apartment, chipped acrylic nails, and a dependency on a script I can't even read.
Disheartened and cold, I turned off the computer and crawled back to bed.
The minutes ticked by, passive to being unrecognized.
I lay still until unexpected light pierced though the black marble of emptiness, creating a counterfeit dawn in which I could once again breathe.
My cell phone lay vibrating on the spare pillow next to my head.
I was not forgotten, not even at 5 in the morning when the rest of the world lay to rest on the backs of their psychiatrists handwriting.
This wasn't the first time my mother could sense I was suffocating myself and it was a comfort to know we talked until the sun rose even if it rose two-thousand three-hundred miles away first.
She highlighted my horizon with her neon voice.
She said "Tracy, experiencing my first earthquake in San Diego I was completely alone. It seemed every time my feet touched the floor the entire apartment would shake and I wasn't sure what was even happening to me. I stayed on that bed for what seemed to be forever when really it only lasted a few seconds... It's terrifying to experience new things on your own, but you've always been inside of your own head, and I know you're strong enough to do this. You just have to stand your ground until the shaking stops and you'll be okay every time."
Tonight I believe her; I will be okay.
Even though there are days when the emptiness compacts into something so tangible I can feel it weighing down on my chest, I know I did the right thing by confronting it head on; I'm memorizing its blueprints. It will no longer leave me bed ridden and shaking. I will know it's structure inside and out. I will shake from it all the pieces of myself and place me back together.
I will stare into the void and find myself staring back with infinite horizons.
My mother will always be a parallel to run alongside of when I can't stand my own ground.
She will always be there for me, even when I can no longer hear her voice, even when she is only a star in the void, even when I am only a star in the void. Our light takes a while to reach through but it's always there if you search for it.
With infinite horizons, I know that I can love and be loved in return.
But love must always remain a parallel thing.
I can never lose myself in another person again and
I may be shaking now but I know soon I will stand and I will be okay.
What was keeping my family from returning for me? Wouldn't they have anticipated my anxiety? Why would they overlook my grievances?
I desperately did not want to be outside when darkness came swooping over my head like an enormous crow with outstretched wings.
I was alone without a horizon to focus on, without a horizon to steady my breathing.
I was without a fixed point. Soon I was alone without a light source.
Empty spaces have always done a excellent job in suffocating me.
In a dream, instead of making an effort to alleviate my fears, I sat as still and small as possible.
Darkness marched in through my mouth and eyes.
In a dream it spread like cancer through my body, turning me to stone where the weary crow finally perched.
I knew my family was never going to return, and I knew the sun would never rise because I no longer had use of my eyes.
In a dream I never woke up.
I was polished down to individual grains of sand to blend in with Hells surroundings.
With every thousand grains of my sun-bleached heart, I knew I lay rubbing against the previous waves of all my previous nightmares.
I had become my biggest fear; this was my punishment.
I woke up to the darkness of a strangers bedroom. I was still panicked; my heart felt paper thin and the vibrations were strangely disturbing. I sat sweating in the blue glow of the apartment.
I searched for comfort but knew I was shorthanded going into this.
I searched for a cure but came up with more expensive diseases to worry about.
Abandonment issues? That sounds like a dead end retail job with a studio apartment, chipped acrylic nails, and a dependency on a script I can't even read.
Disheartened and cold, I turned off the computer and crawled back to bed.
The minutes ticked by, passive to being unrecognized.
I lay still until unexpected light pierced though the black marble of emptiness, creating a counterfeit dawn in which I could once again breathe.
My cell phone lay vibrating on the spare pillow next to my head.
I was not forgotten, not even at 5 in the morning when the rest of the world lay to rest on the backs of their psychiatrists handwriting.
This wasn't the first time my mother could sense I was suffocating myself and it was a comfort to know we talked until the sun rose even if it rose two-thousand three-hundred miles away first.
She highlighted my horizon with her neon voice.
She said "Tracy, experiencing my first earthquake in San Diego I was completely alone. It seemed every time my feet touched the floor the entire apartment would shake and I wasn't sure what was even happening to me. I stayed on that bed for what seemed to be forever when really it only lasted a few seconds... It's terrifying to experience new things on your own, but you've always been inside of your own head, and I know you're strong enough to do this. You just have to stand your ground until the shaking stops and you'll be okay every time."
Tonight I believe her; I will be okay.
Even though there are days when the emptiness compacts into something so tangible I can feel it weighing down on my chest, I know I did the right thing by confronting it head on; I'm memorizing its blueprints. It will no longer leave me bed ridden and shaking. I will know it's structure inside and out. I will shake from it all the pieces of myself and place me back together.
I will stare into the void and find myself staring back with infinite horizons.
My mother will always be a parallel to run alongside of when I can't stand my own ground.
She will always be there for me, even when I can no longer hear her voice, even when she is only a star in the void, even when I am only a star in the void. Our light takes a while to reach through but it's always there if you search for it.
With infinite horizons, I know that I can love and be loved in return.
But love must always remain a parallel thing.
I can never lose myself in another person again and
I may be shaking now but I know soon I will stand and I will be okay.