xanax
afraid of an airplane. of a car swerving in the lane. of a dark cloud too low or being swept away by the undertow. of a building tumbling down. of the train when its undergroung. of the icy mountain roads we have to take to get to the show.
there's just a time when we must all let go the breath that we hold. there's just a time when we must all let go the breath the hold. you know the unkown, we have to let go.
afraid when the phone rings. another breath of life has ceased. it seems its just lost so easily. afraid my heart it beats too slow or that i died and just didn't know. or of a fate i will have to chose and i'm afraid of how much i love you.
opened doors and opened flames continue spinning through my heart. despite the smoke that intoxicates my lungs i feel nothing but breezy sea air and see only the single face that i see in front of everything, even in the deepest of comas.
this cliff i stand on leaves me naked and confused. the air is dead and calm, no gusts to blow me over into a full dive but no fear to push me a step back onto safe ground. i want to live in both directions but my body and soul can't multiply the way i'm pulling myself to. while the air is still and the sea is raging and the trees towering behind me are bending in my direction, the clouds above me spin in awkward directions. around me everything i ever knew is floating into the ocean. we all begin to spread our wings while i stand here confused and timid. no one can tell me what it feels to spread myself but i can't seem to find the instinct in myself anymore. somewhere in the swirling skies my sanity and soul are lost.
there's no comfort in the rain or even in the sun. theres no comfort in the paint that stains my fingertips and clings under my nails like bitter, resentful dirt.
xanax seems to be my only comfort.
in a moment i knew what i wanted and i knew i wasn't the only one who wanted to dive. call me a child for wanting to hold someone hand while i fall, and call me an idiot for not reaching out. i'm frozen in my own ironic hell.
i see myself more clearly in broken glass than i ever see myself. nothing feels like it used to. yellow doesn't exude the energy it once did, and neither do people. everyone has a home settling in their blacks and reds, while i have a void. call me unoriginal but don't call me a fake.
i want to be honest. he's all i've ever known and that could be what caused the second take. part of me wants to believe we've rounded our edges but the part of me that can neither dive nor retreat realizes that i've got too many edges to round for life to permit in such a short time. i could believe that there's a home for me out there, but i see the most loving and whole of homes when we're screaming with the police.
i'm the worst kind of drifter there is. it isn't that i'm insignificant or worthless by any means, even though i sometimes feel it. its that i'm the only one who acknowledges my significance and worth. its that the people who see me shine seem to run despite. i want to know what could make me special enough but it still would get me off this cliff.
i had a balance, i had a recovery plan. that i had a solid plan at all... so solid and strong. my independence was as impenetrable as the titanic, which proved to be true the moment he swept me on the bay and in his car.
if life was meant to sweep me away the way i begged it too, why am i so gravitated to the center of another persons universe? if this is a test of strength, time wasn't as on my side as every cliche artist promised me it would be.
it seems like a lifetime ago i was the most beautiful girl the world had ever blessed and i was promised my white picket rocking chair home and family. when the beast that is reality grasped me by the neck i was sure it was over, and now i can't tell if i've loosened the hold and take a fresh breath or if i've been permanently submerged.
i promised life i was too strong for this. maybe this is my way of learning how wrong i could be.
i never thought i'd look so forward to burying my nose in books as a distraction as this. i hope his hands and words in my only home-away-from-home can't distract me from distraction. i hope i can create to a home to be away from.
in her eyes i see all of my potential, i see the me she believes i am and can become. but now she's being wisked away by snow and wine and i'm left empty again. this is what i get for leaving my snails shell- life turns me into escargo. eat up, i'm slimy and delicious and completely without any next steps.