I give up a little piece of me
In my moments of anxiety.
Then take comfort in the idea
Of murky dark nothingness
To take the edge off of the pressure.

I close my eyes,
And succumb to the darkness,
Letting myself
Float above my body,
And away from worry.
Or, as the experts call it,
A depression nap.

People keep telling me they’re worried about me,
But they don’t actually try and do anything about it.
Saying it to me makes them feel better,
And we’re all so incredibly selfish,
That’s all they’re after.
So they worry at me,
And I nod, saying something polite...
And they feel better.

I’m not completely oblivious,
I know the signs
When I’m emotionally crashing.
I understand when I can hear the constant background sound of a
car wreck
Inside my head
That there’s something
Wrong.
I know I’m crashing right now.

Every time I try to dig myself out
I find a new reason.

Wake up,
Brush teeth,
Don’t act to sad or it becomes the discussion of the day,
Go home to an empty house that’s filled with holes meant for people who are gone now,
Brush teeth,
Go to sleep,
Rinse and repeat.

Stop making decisions
You know are bad.

Every fiber of me cried out
In that moment,
“You don’t want to drive away,
You just don’t want to hurt him with the dark thought that took up your headspace last night.”
But that only made me cry harder,
And drive faster.

I want to fly away
On wings of disassociation.

Dunk my head under sunlit water,
With my eyes wide open,
Breathe in the perfect blue water
And watch the shimmering colorful fish
As I lose consciousness.

I want to float into the sky,
Have the sun turn my skin pink
As I float higher
And higher
And
Higher
Up into the stars,
Until I reach the blank black space beyond,
And can no longer fill my lungs.

I want to lay on the mossy
Forest floor
And feel vines wrap around me,
Plants take root inside my carcass,
And moss cover my skin,
As the plants claim me.

Most of all,
I want to tell someone,
But I don’t want to admit it.

I have a workshop,
With a circus of colors
To preform and entertain.
Sheets of stained glass
In every color
Only limited by my imagination.

I cut the pieces in curly shapes
And faces,
Into smiles and frowns,
Into leaves or flowers.
Slowly
Arrange
The perfect picture,
Then stand back to look at my masterpiece.

I can never take my eyes away...
Sunlight bringing it to life,
Lighting the reds
On fire,
The blue turns to water,
The faces are are angelically glowing,
And I can’t stop looking,
I’m so lost in the picture...

I can’t see the world through it...
I forget there’s a world through
It,
It’s so beautiful,
Everything I ever wanted...

CRASH.

A hailstorm crashes through,
Shattering the glass,
And the hell storm
Out side blows where the beautiful
Manufactured image once stood.

I find myself a home,
And I fill it with stained glass.
I refuse to see anything around me
Except the picture I’ve dreamed into my reality.

And then the true reality crashes through,
It always does
Eventually.
Destroying almost, if not all, the wonderful things I’ve been so focused on.

I’ve found myself a home,
And I don’t remember building windows,
But the real world outside
Looks beautiful.
It’s full of flowers and leaves,
Sunshine and rain,
Faces with smiles,
And tears,
But no hell storm.

I know in the pit of my stomach,
That it’s going to be shattered,
And I don’t want to be caught off guard this time...
I want to catch it in my hands,
All the awful things,
And hold them like a struggling scared animal
So they can’t surprise me this time,
So I don’t feel like the stupid one
This time.

I’m wandering around
With a rock in my hand,
Going from beautiful thing,
To beautiful thing,
And trying to hit it with the rock,
Trying to break the illusion
Before I love it too much.
I may not remember,
But I must have built the image
In my wondrous workshop,
And tricked myself again.

But no windows are breaking,
And I’m shaking.

What’s wrong?
Why can’t I escape the illusion?

Because I haven’t realized,
Maybe it’s just a plain old boring window,
Not stained glass,
But reality.

It used to give me a sinking feeling inside,
A fear.
I would be happy, and my first thought would be that
Something
Bad
Was going to happen.

But not this time.

This time I know,
Something bad will happen,
And then that bad thing will end,
And then something good will happen again.
But it’s not the external events
I can’t control
That make me content,
It’s me.

And I’ve decided to be content.

I don’t envy the task
Set before you,
My love.
You’ve set out to love
An angry woman.

I’m never just angry with you.
I’m angry with the four men
Who’ve come before you.

I’m afraid you’ll leave because I’ve been left.
I’m afraid you’ll hurt my body
Because I’ve been hurt.
I’m afraid you’ll lie to me,
Because I’ve been lied to.

I have the fury
Of a daughter abused,
A high school lover
*****,
A recovering girl
Abandoned,
A runaway
Too drunk
To say no.

When I’m angry with you
Half of the anger
Was already there.

I don’t understand why
You choose to love me like this,
All I know is I’m grateful you do.
For that,
I will try my best
To forgive the men who
Have wronged me before you,
So that I can let go.