Embroiled

inside my dream,

I fade into fog

hovering over

our earth,

but you don’t

yank me back.

I shield

your heart

leaking from

my hands

but it’s too late

for you

to say maybe

because

I’ve already

said

goodbye.

The streetlight doesn't work

And everyone has convinced themselves

That they can drive in the dark.

After a while, it's as if

it's not even there.

at a loss

beneath the sofa

retrieve me

at all costs!

on hand ’n knee

bent in fatigue

underneath

some place

is a key

dropped

day by day

like success

of wayward

pennies 

in duress seen

deaf between

the rain pans

and endless

linted rolls

from under foot

and feet of the

torn corner seat

as the landlord

sits to enumerate 

community deficit

searching pockets

for some receipts

signed sighs

escape

from a broken frame 

that locks

from behind

yes it’s cold outside

#DepressionAnxietyLossImages #Challenge

Falling without anyone to catch me,

This is my worst habit,

One I need to change soon.

I fall easily and fast,

Never do I fully recover.

I am not the kind of person,

Who loves one person one day,

And another the next.

I tend to never stop loving,

That special person.

My heart becomes split,

Into sections,

That are ever changing.

Imagine loving someone,

But they could never love you back,

Especially not in the eyes of society.

Imagine falling for someone,

Who just lets you fall.

Imagine feeling a piece of you,

Torn out on a regular basis,

Not every day,

But too often for comfort or health.

The feeling of loss,

Taking control.

Why can’t I feel anything? Why does my heart pound everytime I have to talk to someone? Why am I empty?

He beat me when I was only 5.

I can’t remember the last time I felt loved by a man who wasn’t lying.

Why do they hate me? Am I not pretty enough for them?

I just want to be loved, why can’t he just love me?

I look in the mirror, UGLY, that’s all I see.

So many questions no one can answer I’m alone in the dark with no escape.

I’m dead.

The forest is gone, or maybe it was never there to begin with. A sapling stands, dead, its brittle yellow leaves scattered in the autumn breeze. And it hurts all the more for the knowledge that that tree was once a seed. And it hurts all the more that it could have been something. It could have filled the sky--but it didn't. It's dead now. And that's all there is.

True disaster. Two minutes before midnight. An all dark room without any light or presence in it. It's only me looking at the vertical bar on my phone as my thoughts fade away. What was I going to say, I ask myself. Did I even know what I wanted to say. Did I even have any words left capable of describing that feeling. What feeling? [you'll ask]. That. Feeling. That undescribable fight your eye sockets have while trying to hold back the tears from falling down on your cheekbones. That feeling of recognizing your skin but not being able to move it nor feel the sheet underneath it. That feeling of breathing air only because you can't momentarily or physically suffocate. That feeling of wanting to take the whole diazepam tablet but throwing away that one pill you even had the courage to take out of the tablet. That feeling when you need to scream but have no voice left for it. That vain feeling that fills you with nothing but means everything to you. That unbearing feeling that you must feel to understand these words with which I try to describe it. That is the feeling I don't wish even my biggest enemy to ever feel.

The gentleness of the rain does nothing to increase its warmth. The sky is leaden gray, and the gathering, though not large, is unnaturally quiet. The birds no longer sing in the trees, and the only sound is the pitter-patter of small cold raindrops, as they fall on black umbrellas and on the thin blue canvas stretched over the mound of dirt next to the hole.

One by one, single red roses are laid atop the little white casket. The rose petals are being stripped from the flowers by the rain, and as they tumble they leave thin red streaks down the sides of the tiny box that now holds a piece of my soul.

My heart now has a cavity that will never be filled, and I understand what real loss is, and a pain that no parent or grandparent should ever have to endure.

“The only thing harder to endure than the absence of your presence, is the enduring presence of your absence.”

-- Grandpa loves you little boy . . . forever.