HUSH

hush.
just listen to my story.
let my words wash over you in a wave of realization.
let my waves crash upon the shores of your heart with
the power and vitality of horses
sit in silence and wait
for my rushed rant to dissipate.
share my pain, wallow in my agony

Hush 
let me cry out in frustration.

hold me in your arms and never let me go.
soak with me in wet, sticky, messy depression.
shed my fucking tears.
hush.
and when im done?
take my hand.
pick me up off the dirty earth and lead me to the light.
show me a smile and tell me;
it's ok that im not ok.
put a flower in my hair and make me laugh.
i need you...
to love me.

I'm OK

"I'm OK"

The words slip out of my mouth; dripping with lies and deceit.

"No."

Was her response. Of course she knew. Kayla knew everything. About me, anyway. She knew that my unseasonably long jeans hid scars and bruises from the cruel world. She knew that my mind played tricks on me; making me believe everyone hated me or I am unloveable. And, of course, she knew that I loved her. Even though she didn't love me back.

"But I will be."

I whispered, itching the newest healing cut on my leg. Watching me, she quickly grabbed my leg and shoved my jeans up, revealing the cut.

"You fucking promised!"

She scolded with a tear welling up in her eye. I did. I promised I would stop. But it wasn't that easy! Telling a cutter to stop was like telling a smoker to stop. Cold turkey just doesn't work.

"I know..."

"Kat...Seriously...I care about you too much for you to do this shit to yourself,"

She always said that she cared about me...but she could never love me. She loved someone else. I thought it was crazy but she had a dream. A dream to follow her lover to Australia and be happy together forever. She knew it would take her up to three years to be reunited with this mystery woman...but it didn't matter to Kayla. She told me that "when you know, you know". Well, with Kayla, I knew. It just sucked that she didn't love me back.

The L Word

It's been rough.

I feel like I'm in the episode of The L Word where Alice makes the lesbian web connection of who everyone has slept with...It's kinda crazy right now. I'm in love with her but she's in love with another who is in love with another who is moving to California to meet her gf for the first time...MY LIFE.

But really...is it that bad?

No.

And that's what I have to keep reminding myself. IT'S NOT THAT BAD. Things could always be worse. And they can always get better. Look at the bright side, the silver lining as they say. I guess I just have to keep my head above water right now.

song of the day?

Anna Nalick: Breathe

Starbucks

"You don't have to do this..."

These words crept across the small Starbucks table to me. I didn't recognize the voice; as I didn't arrive with any company...yet there she was. A beautiful young woman in a bright red coat with bouncing blonde curls. She just sat there...looking at me...then she grabbed my bandaged wrist.

"You don't have to do this."

She repeated. A tear welling in her green eye. But...she didn't even know me? Why did this stranger give a shit about my mutilation? She had no reason to care. She was just a pedestrian walking by me and my coffee. Was it the empty look in my eyes? Or my slumped shoulders? Or the thick white bandage that covered most of my wrist...if only she knew about the bandages that scattered my legs as well...

"Yes I do."

I finally responded after what felt like forever. Tears must be contagious.

"No. I understand."

How could she understand? She was thin, beautiful, happy, and wore a beautiful wedding band. Everything was going great for her. She had no reason to be depressed. Not like me.

"No you don't. You don't know me."

"But I know what that's like."

She confessed, slowly sliding up her coat sleeve to reveal thick white scares.

Advice to Myself Addressing Anger

**names have been changed to protect those involved**

Dear Mini-Me,
There are a few things about anger that I want to share with you. First is that you are going to be angry, and that is okay. Holding back ager isn't healthy. I wish that I could tell you that everything is going to be alright. but, that would be the biggest lie I ever told. You are going to get angry; you are human. The second thing that I want to tell you is that you need to communicate this anger somehow. A big mistake that I've made is keeping my feelings to myself. But in doing this I bottle myself up like a shaken can of soda, and eventually someone tried to open the can. So... be angry. There are healthy ways to show your anger. A way is to write about it (this is my favorite way). By writing about your anger you can really take it out on the page. Use red marker, use fowl words. No one else will read it. The third and probably most important thing about anger that i need to tell you is that even though you deserve to be angry at Kevin and Sarah and even your father, you have to forgive them. forgiveness is an important part of the healing process and you will never be able to heal from how they hurt you if you don't forgive them for the terrible things they've done. now that I've had my rant I wish you the best of luck.
with new love,
me.

How Do You Show Your Pain?

Some show their pain with a swipe at the wrist,
While others prefer a throw of the fist.
Some show their pain with an empty bottle,
While others prefer to hit the road full throttle.
Some show their pain with a puff and a drag,
While others prefer to bitch and nag.
Some show their pain with fun from a whore,
While others prefer to eat more and more.

But others? Others like me?
I prefer the company of an old oak tree
Under which I write words and melody
That make me feel unburdened and free.
That is how i show my pain,
By writing it out again and again.
Some find writing to be mundane,
For me its shows my hurt, but more humane.

And you? I only have one simple favor to ask,
Don't show your pain with a silent fast;
Don't show it with a tilted flask;
But please don't hide your pain behind a mask.

Show the world and teach it too,
To control the pain that burdens you.
Become someone completely new
Who has something to hold onto.