Open Fire

And it started, well, who knows how it started? I walked under florescent lights, threw away money to pass to time, to fight the ghosts trying to get under my skin. Drowning in parking lots, staring at the windshield, wishing that it had me. It wouldn't have mattered as much that way. Hearts wouldn't have been broken, tears wouldn't have stained cheeks and dresses. There is still light in the sky, and I'm choking on the air. Crying is such a weird concept. I sit back and feel it, analyze, and think about how each tear builds in my eye and sprints down my face like it is trying to win the 55m dash. I used to think that tears were slow. But mine are big and heavy, the weight makes them soar. My mascara bleeds and the last sunlight of day warms my car. I've been sitting here for thirty minutes. I could have arms around me, whispering voices in the bathroom if I could only find it in myself to get up and walk back inside. But no one can now how much of a wreck I am. No one can even begin to understand because I don't understand. I hadn't talked to her in over a year, I barely know him, but they both left me in completely different ways like everybody leaves at some point in time. And I just want to leave, but I don't have the guts to leave in any sort of way except for emotionally because I can withdraw my trust in an instant. I want this person that I've become to leave, the addictions that I've developed, the longings that I can't shake. I want my fears to leave, my flaws to leave. I'm sick, I'm sick. I swerved my way home with blurred vision and gasping breaths, hiding my face and stoplights and screaming at Someone that I am doubting exists at this present time, but I know He exists because it feels so normal screaming at Him, but why I am always screaming? Just last night, I was thanking, thanking for what had been prayed over me, but now I have a plan to go home and and.. wow. So I get there, and the red truck is pulling out (thank God), and I rush in and dive into my bed and let the storm pull me in completely. There is rain, there is thunder, but then there is a forced numb that weaves around my body like a cocoon. I will be reborn (calmer). I will be reborn (thinner). I will be reborn (with a purpose). But death is on my mind too much. I'm sorry you worry that I won't be here when you wake up. The truth is, I'm not even strong enough to do that. Death is just a thing that depresses me and soothes me and lives (hah) under my skin. It's not a reality, it's not something that I could intentionally bring about. The day I started taking that medicine, I vowed that I wouldn't let it beat me.. and it won't. I think parts of this soap opera are worth talking about. Maybe I can help someone to see the consequences of a single thought, a starting action. Because that is how this started, it changed everything.

At the end of June if things aren't different, I'm changing how I operate. I want to start now, but I'm only doing it if I have to..


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