Pulling Out

When you've tripped and fallen into a black hole it feels nearly impossible to get out.
The light at the end of the tunnel seems so dim and opac that it might as well not even be there.
Hope takes on new disdain.
Tainted it tastes bitter and instead makes you quite sick.
You want nothing to do with it.
Your legs too limp to walk
And your arms too heavy to crawl.
Helpless you feel comfort in surrendering.
It makes perfect sense to give in.
To turn against yourself and consider you weak.
Unworthy and forgotten you convince yourself this just might be where you belong.
With the unimportant things tossed out to be forgotten.
Things that never seemed to make an impact to the world or anyone in it.
This world won't miss you.
It has won.
Triumphantly removed you the tumor.
A mark staining its beauty.
This is who you've allowed yourself to become.
And so with no rope down this well.
No tracks or glowing sticks to lead you out.
You contemplate to remain.
What saves you?
What picks you up and gives you strength?
Rest
Rest in this putrified loneliness rotting away.
Think of all the things you quit on.
Think of all the things you blame yourself for.
Think of all the things you wanted and did not belong to you.
Think of your regrets.
Think of your failures.
Think of your projected unworthiness.
The damage you have caused yourself.
That you have allowed others to inflict on you.
Think of your pain.
And when the stench gets so bad that you cannot lie in it no longer
And when your muscles begin to cramp looking for movement.
You get up!
You realize you do not belong here with all these withered things.
You will rise.
You will find the will to scratch against the wall and pull yourself up.
To anchor your weight against the wall and with nail and teeth drag yourself towards the light.
Slowly.
With pace.
You drag your body and broken spirit back.
Because you do not belong here.
You cannot be forgotten.
And when you reach the light.
When you return to the world.
Great joy in your heart.
Forgiveness of yourself.
Of others.
You may not know where you belong.
What you can contribute to this world.
But you do know, you do not belong with withered, rotten, forgotten things.
You have more light, more right than that
Breathe in a new beginning.
Jaded at first, with confidence still, that in this world you belong.

Solidarity

Written October 25, 2010

It slowly starts to eat away at me.
This emptiness creeping up.
Its like an empty dry well heaving for moisture. Moisture coming in the form of love, of comfort.
Real or not artificial water fills it. But the sun dries it up again.
I am left dehydrated & sizziling up once again. Burning slowly inside from the dry emptiness. The unsataible heat!
I begin to panic.
Searching the corners for any dampness left. Searching the wrinkles of my walls for any reserved water. In time I'll find none.
It is inevitible. I fear the driness. I feel the burning. That endless emptiness I can't seem to fill. I can't seem to satisfy.
A cut out hole in my heart. In my soul that I cannot mend. I cannot close.
Just continously attempt to disguise it. To fool it. To confuse it w/ cheap temporary lubrication to reduce the friction.
But in time it all dries up. It all comes to light that inside there is emptiness. Inside there is a gap. That inside I am not whole.
It was carved out & stolen. Nothing can replace it. Its an endless battle to cover it up. To disguise it.
A smile. A routine. To wake up day after day regardless. Just hoping one day this hole will mend. This gap will fill.
Or a new heart, a new soul can replace it. I beg to be whole.
The well has dried up once again & water is scarce.
It's begining to burn again.

Insanity

Written October 16, 2010

And how do I keep from going insane? How can I find sanity in the now when the wait of the now drives me insane? I've never been ok with this time. I've always wanted to fast forward. & no I don't want to talk myself into sanity. I only want it my way. With good intentions this constant struggle against the natural order. Believing in my capable hands & for the most part always conquering. But that's not true. There is no conquering against nature. She will do as she pleases & mandates.

We slave to her order must strap in for the ride. I never! I wanted to steer. Is that my destiny, my nature? Am I fighting empty battles & exhausting my powers? Y can't I choose the days, or blink them away? Some days I have purpose. Others I see no point.

In my head, with my head the light becomes dim. So I try. I try to always find light. Surround myself in light. Distract my mind. Always trying to diffuse this darkness, this emptiness. Will I ever find that light in myself, by myself, within myself? Will I ever be able to by myself breathe easy, trust in my thoughts, & not fear the creep of solitude stealing from my light? Satisfaction in myself outside & in? See my beauty. Believe in this beauty.