Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Childhood Memories

You sat there, ruling over your kingdom with your purple pony by your side. Princess of the food court. You were so blissfully unaware of the eyes that stared so blatantly in your direction. The plastic crown, placed so carefully on top of your curly, silver hair, sparkled in the fluorescent lighting, and you held yourself with such poise. Your outfit was put together with such care and precision. Every article you wore was perfectly color-coordinated in the softest lilac-ey purple. It suited you quite nicely. It brought the blue out in your eyes. You were reading the Chinese Horoscopes on the back of a take-out menu, ignoring the snide comments buzzing around you.

When I first noticed you, I was completely taken aback. At first, I was shocked and felt that your costume was inappropriate for your surroundings, but then I took a second look. Admittedly, I was among the staring eyes, but I was looking at you for a completely different reason. I did not see you as a freak of nature or childish in any way. Though strange to observe at first, I realized that you are everything I had longed to be as a child, and it was so wonderful to see the dream realized before my eyes. Though your body was aged, I saw in your eyes the child I used to be. Your mind, so innocent, allowed you to truly be the very thing that every little girl dreams of being: A Beautiful Princess. You opened my heart to the possibility of anything I desire coming to fruition...If only I believe it hard enough. You may have been sitting at the table by yourself, but you were not alone. The kid in me was right there beside you, holding your hand and making that purple plastic pony gallop across the crumb-strewn tale.

Thursday, December 10, 2009

The Power of a Promise

As I rushed by you this morning, on my way to work, you called out to me. All you wanted was someone to listen. I informed you that I was running too far behind schedule to stop for even a moment. You looked upset at this fact, but I kept moving. I was already late, as it was. As I neared the street corner, I called back to you, and offered the promise of my return. I begged of you to understand how imperative it was that I hurry on my way, but I gave you my word that I'd come back to hear the words you longed to speak.

Seven and a half hours later, I passed you again. The promise I had made to you had completely slipped my mind until I saw your face. As I was walking by, engrossed in a meaningless phone conversation, you smiled at me, and we both remembered. I paused in my tracks and informed the person on the other line that I would have to call them back. I walked over to you. Your face lit up as you recognized me from earlier that day. You didn't think I'd have taken the time to come back. I did. I knew how much it would mean to you for me to hear the thoughts in your head.

We talked for over an hour about this and that. I know it made your day, and because of that, mine, too, was brightened. You had the most fascinating stories. You spoke so eagerly of your travels and experiences. I never felt as though I was forcing myself to stay. You made it so easy to listen. I am so honored to know that I was able to help you---even in such a menial way. All it took was sixty minutes of my time...time I would have spent doing nothing.Though you thanked me at the end of it all, it is I who should be grateful to you. You taught me that even the smallest of gestures is enough to generate a smile and memories that will last a life time....so thank you, dear stranger, for opening my eyes.

Friday, December 4, 2009

I Thank God For You

There is no doubting that our lives were intertwined far too quickly. Fate threw us together so haphazardly, leaving too little time to prepare for the things in store. The gaps between us should have remained unbridged for a little while longer, at least. Both of our worlds faced such a drastic upheaval, and we were catapulted into this wild roller-coaster ride that neither of us was ready for. I often see the pain of it all, clouding behind your eyes. There are times when the frustrations you face as a result of this crazy whirlwind cast a dreary shadow across your features. I know you fight hard to contain the emotions that threaten to drive you mad, and it goes without saying that you are all the more wonderful for trying so hard not to let me see them.

Despite the dire situation in which we find ourselves, you continue to remain true to your nature. You allow not the difficulties that were forced upon you to affect your genuine kindness and caring ways. You continue to be constant and compassionate through all of it. Although I am fully aware of how hard this has been on you, I must say that seeing your ability to handle this amount of adversity with such poise is humbling. Every day that passes, I see more of your strength, and it is rather inspiring. I can't even imagine the way you must be feeling. I can only caution a guess as to the magnitude of caged-ness you are enduring, yet not a day passes that you don't hold my hand in yours and continue to care.

I want you to know that what you've done, and continue to do, for me is so inexplicably appreciated. Though I don't show it nearly enough, you mean absolutely everything to me. Not one person in my entire life has shown me as much commiseration as you have. I know that all of this has been so overwhelming for you, and I can't possibly find the words to do justice to the amount of veneration I feel in regard to you. I thank God for every day that I continue to have you in my life. I don't know where I'd be without you, and I hope you can see how truly special you are. You gave chance where many would never have bothered. You're such an incredible, selfless person. Complicated or not, I wouldn't give it up for the world.

You're wonderful.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Baby: The Hate-Filled Moniker

I can't possibly begin to describe the disgust that flows through me upon the utterance of the nickname, Baby. It drives me absolutely insane. I detest it with every ounce of my being. Its meaning bears nothing but shame and bitter memories that have plagued me far too long. A cover-up of sorts, used only by the people that have hurt me most. Generally speaking, said only to make a sickening act of disloyalty seem superfluous. Though in reality, it only aided in strengthening the blow. When spoken in reference to me, I cannot help but to hold back not only tears of frustration and guilt, but also my gag reflex. It serves not as an endearing moniker (as per its definition), but as a kind of time machine, dredging up the memories that I spent far too long ignoring. With its every use, I think back to the instances of guilt and displeasure---to the days when I was entirely too lenient with my trust and too forthcoming with my love. It acts as a constant reminder that I was once a fool---that I gave far too many unwarranted second, third, fourth, and fifth chances to those who had never even deserved one.

Friday, November 20, 2009

Fading in Comparison

It’s strange how much I fear telling you the way I feel. I shouldn’t be so apprehensive about what your reaction may or may not be. Truth be told though, it’s not you that has me so afraid. It’s her. You can’t possibly begin to understand how much it hurts, knowing that I will never mean as much to you as she did. It hurts to think that I will never be good enough to erase all of the bad memories she left behind. I wish I could say the things that are so hard to put into words. I want so badly to be able to express it all to you---to tell you what is on my mind. I want nothing more than for you to know that my heart skips a beat every time you look my way and that my pulse races when your fingers caress my skin. I wish you knew that when you smile, all of the terrible things that this world plays host to just seem to disappear, and your laugh never fails to brighten my day. My knees weaken drastically when you kiss me, and I still get butterflies when you walk into the room. It saddens me to know that you will never be aware of any of the wonderful effects you have on me because she’s made me so afraid. It breaks my heart to know that I will never compare to her.

Monday, November 16, 2009

Dear Brother

Dear Brother,

You demand the impossible of me. I cannot stand by and watch your rapid self-deprecation as you have requested. You ask that I let you make your own mistakes, and though I understand your need for independent choice, I see also that your lapses in judgment are not solely your own. You are heading down the path of destruction that I, too, followed long ago. You are still so young, and I cannot bear to be a witness to your demise. You were there. You saw the pain and suffering I endured. Why must you experience it too? Was it not enough that I was brought to my knees? My errors in life need not be yours as well. I’ve spent the greater majority of my life trying to protect you from the evils of this world. Will you throw it all away and allow my efforts to be in vain?

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Letter of Regret

Dear Conscience,

It’s been so long since our last rendez-vous. I’ve missed you. You’ve made many attempts to reach me, I know, but I have been so absorbed in myself that I failed to take much notice. You should know, however, that I think about you constantly, and more recently, I have begun to wonder if you still remember that I am here. Too much time has passed since we last connected, and I often catch myself believing that you’ve given up. I wouldn’t blame you for a moment if you have. My ignorance and blatant disregard of your existence was completely unwarranted. You’ve been nothing but helpful, and there are many situations in which I would have found myself completely lost without you.

You always knew the right things to say. You tried so hard to direct me on the right path. Pride---or quite possibly stupidity even---prevented me from paying any heed to your wisdom. Though I can offer no explanation as to the reason behind my neglect, I do wish to extend my sincerest apologies, and I hope that we might somehow begin anew. As the realization of my current standing in the world heightens, I start to understand how much I have needed (and still need) you by my side.

If you haven’t already gone, I truly desire a reconciliation of sorts. I have shelved my selfish inconsideration, and am ready to correct the mistakes I’ve made. The only problem is, I can’t do that without your help. In the wake of your absence, I was left in complete and utter devastation and misdirection. I require your assistance in repairing the damage that has been done. Though I know I don’t deserve your aide, I desperately need it...I can’t do it alone. Please, help me turn it all around!

Sincerely,

Me

Monday, November 9, 2009

Resonance of Insanity

My soul struggles to free itself from the menacing embrace in which it is trapped, hungering for the tranquility that has been absent far too long. Time dredges by so slowly; it seems almost at a stand-still. A strange feeling resonates through the core of my being, polluting the deepest catacombs of my subconscious. Lost in the incomprehension encompassing my thoughts. Eagerly foraging for an answer---for release from the prison that is my own mind…

Saturday, November 7, 2009

Only Time Will Tell

As I begin this impromptu descent into oblivion, I briefly pause to wonder if you’ll be there to catch me as I land. Will it all be in vain, or will this plummet prove worth my while? Though my presentiment toward such an end is, at most, irrational, the fear still remains prominently in the forefront of my mind. My reverence is only mildy justifiable in terms of the mysticism surrounding such a journey, and though I continue to shy from the multitude of possiblities that it has to offer, both good and bad, I always seem to appreciate and even anticipate the final destination. I constantly find myself jumping head-first, with sheer imprudence, into the thrilling emotional rollercoaster that is associated directly with falling in love. Alas, am I simply a fool who has learned nothing from past experience, or  will I find myself happily mistaken this time around? Will ecstacy preempt the qualms that plague my heart? Or will my preconceptions hold fast to age-old teachings? Only time will tell…

Thursday, November 5, 2009

The Man Who Made You Fade Away...

From the moment I first laid eyes on you, I knew that my life was in for a complete upheaval. There you were, silhouetted against the blazing background. Your curly, brown hair tousled by the wind, tamed only by the black ball cap you wore cocked to one side. Your black t-shirt clashed with your white and blue plaid shorts but not in an unpleasant way. You had a skate-board in one hand and a backpack in the other. You looked so out of place in that small town, but your presence felt so right. Time stood still when you smiled in my direction, and when you spoke for the first time, it was as though the song of all the angels in Heaven was coming from your mouth.



She was the luckiest girl in the whole town. How she had managed to catch your interest was far beyond me. You were both so different. She was stuck up and angry with the world, and you just floated through life with such ease. I watched jealously from afar as you held her hand and kissed her cheek. When you danced with her on prom night, I selfishly longed to be in her place. As the summer progressed, you began visiting me while she worked. You would show up at my house at the most ungodly hours. I didn't mind. We'd sit together for hours on end, and it took every ounce of self-control not to reach over and grab your hand.


Our friendship flourished. You became my confidante. I trusted you with my deepest secrets---things I had never told another living being before. We knew each other inside and out. Anyone who saw us together knew there was something magical taking place. The only people who were oblivious to it were you and I. Even 'She' was starting to take notice of our deep connection. She grew bitter and withdrawn. In turn, this caused you to spend more time with me. And then it happened...


A day like any other. We sat together on my couch with enough space between us to alleviate any suspicions. A commercial came on the television, and we began talking. Somehow or another, the talking lead to horseplay. You always were a weakling! Then you kissed me. Out of nowhere. Time screeched to a stand-still. I had never felt anything quite like that. It was like my body had exploded in a flurry of emotions I had never experienced before. It was magical. Something out of a fairytale. We pulled away a few moments later in shame, both knowing that we had betrayed someone we cared about. The guilt, however, was short-lived, as you pulled me into your arms once more.


For almost a month, you and I continued to fool around behind her back, but everyday, I felt less sorry for our trysts because I could see how truly unhappy you were, being with her. The only reason you stayed with her was to be with me. That's when I decided to take matters into my own hands. I wanted you for myself, and I was going to have you, one way or another. The night of my decision, I pulled 'Her' aside when she came to retrieve you from my house, and I put my plan into motion. After several long hours of convincing her that you two were not meant for each other, it was settled. You would break up. It was a long drive back to your house, but I held your hand the whole time. Though comforted by the warmth of your touch, I was afraid that I had made a mistake and that we would never see one another again. I was wrong.


You called me a few days later, and came to see me. We were finally able to be more open about our blossoming relationship, yet we still kept it somewhat secretive because I wasn't ready to openly betray my best friend. That all changed when she walked in on us. I have never seen anyone look quite as hurt as she did that fateful day, but I remained convinced that I was doing the right thing. We were too perfect together for it to not be. My friendship with her ended shortly thereafter, and there are days I still miss her, but I don't regret what I gave up for one second.


Our relationship deepened and became more passionate. I still remember the day I fell in love with you. You were away on a trip to the coast, and you called me from the beach. It was 5 am. I wasn't angry that you had woken me from an incredible dream. I was just happy to hear your voice. As I began relaying the week's events to you, you interrupted me and told me to listen. As though from far away, I heard you say “Can you hear it?” , and as I listened more closely, I heard the crash of the waves from the ocean. You put the phone back to your ear and said “I know you've always dreamed of standing in the sea, and one day you will, but for now, I am bringing you as close to it as I possibly can.” That was it for me. I knew that from that moment on, I wanted to be with you forever. Before you hung up, you told me you loved me and that you would see me soon. When you returned from your trip, I was so excited to see you. It felt so wonderful to hold you in my arms and tell you I loved you in person.


As the months passed, you were getting ready to leave for another city. College was calling. You asked me to come with you. I did. Without question, I packed what little belongings I would need and left with you on a new adventure. For awhile, everything was perfect, just as it always had been. We were happily in love and blissfully unaware of the world around us. However,that all changed as suddenly as it had occurred. Money became a pressing issue, and the stress of being in new surroundings got to us. You started cheating. To this day, I don't know what it is I did to push you to that extreme; nevertheless, it hurt me to the core, and I blamed myself. I forgave you after the first few incidents, but after awhile, it became more and more difficult to ignore. I thought I loved you enough to move past it all; alas, I wasn't strong enough.


We fought to keep our relationship afloat for several more months, but by the end of it we were both too worn out to continue down that road. When it ended, in the spring of that year, it felt as though my whole world was torn apart. I could function only minimally, and I began a downward spiral into a deep-set depression from which I would not emerge for almost a year. I begged you to come back, despite everything. I promised to fix everything, but you were set in your decision. After a month of trying, I gave up and went home. I took the few belongings I had arrived with and left the city.


For the longest time, I blamed myself for everything. I allowed you to play the victim. It took me several excruciatingly long months to finally realize that I was not at fault---at least not entirely, but no matter how much I told myself that the end was for the best, I couldn't fall out of love with you. Nothing I did was distraction enough from the pain of losing you. To this day, I still believe that what we had was flawless, but as the saying goes, nothing is perfect, so it was foretold from the beginning that we would not last forever. That being said, it was still no comfort to me. I was so afraid that, after experiencing the whirlwind of emotions I felt with you, I would never learn to love again. The thought of ever trusting my heart to someone else was completely out of the question.


I dated off and on but no one was able to keep my interests for long, and my thoughts drifted back to you. I still talked to you on a regular basis, and you continually told me how much you missed me. You never failed to express your love for me, but each time you said it, it was like a hot knife being run through my body. I couldn't handle it. You came to visit me in the summer of that year, and I planned on saying my good-byes. I had a whole speech ready for when the time came to part ways again. That fell through though because the moment I laid eyes on you, it was like seeing you for the first time all over again, and the rush of emotions that accompanied that moment was so intense it almost knocked me off my feet. I fell in love with you over and over again for the entire duration of your visit, and sending you home was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. Watching you walk away from me, and just letting it happen was so difficult. All I could do was cry, when what I really wanted was to run after you, to pull you into my arms and refuse to let you go. That was the last time I ever saw you.


As time passed, it got a little easier to handle. I began going out more, and I found myself almost enjoying the time I spent with other people---all with little thought of you. It was refreshing, to say the least. And then I met 'him'. He came out of nowhere and when I had least expected it. He was this beacon of light that quickly cleared away the cloud of despair I had found my self weighed down by for so long. My heart sang when I saw him. He was you---but better. Though I am slower in allowing my emotions to take over this time, I can honestly say that I am happy again. Happy without you---something I thought to be impossible until the fateful day when he happened into my life.


I still think about you often, and I wonder if you're alright. There are still days when I miss you terribly, but instead of wallowing in the grief I faced for so long after you, I simply look beside me and take the hand of the man who made it all better. The man who made you fade away...

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Beginning Of The End...

As the winter months approach, it seems I have become burdened, more and more, by despair. I don't know if maybe it is simply my deep loathing of the frigid season or if it is the rapid changes and death surrounding me. It is quite possible that the weather has no bearing on my moods of late and trying to pinpoint an actual reason behind it all is redundant at most. Thinking further on it, I have felt my state of mind slowly declining in recent months---even more so in the past few weeks. I wish there were words to accurately describe the innate darkness, looming in the farthest reaches of my mind; alas, justice cannot be done to such astronomical cloudiness.



For all intents and purposes, I guess I could lend some explanation in regards to the gibberish spewing forth from my thoughts. Firstly, I should say that I became privy to the steady degeneration of my psyche as early as mid-summer. In fact, it may have even begun earlier than that, but with the mass amounts of changes taking place in my life at the time, I wasn't aware of anything pertaining to my own well-being. Actually, I can pinpoint my downfall to an exact date, now that I think about it. January 1st, 2009. The beginning of a new year and the end of my life as I knew it.



It all began, as most tragic youth tales do, with an excessive drug habit and copious amounts of alcohol. My memory on the matter remains, to this day, blurred by the booze that flowed more freely through my veins than blood that night. I remember the beginning of the night quite clearly. Friends and friends of friends all sitting together in the small house's living room, chatting happily about nothing and everything---rehashing the past year's events. I sat quietly on my designated couch cushion, nursing my 6th cocktail of the night, listening to the chatter around me. Not being a fan of large crowds or loud noises, I was more withdrawn than usual that night. Left to my own devices, I consumed more alcohol than should have been allowed, in order to deal with my uncomfortable surroundings. The only time I was acknowledged was in the event of various liquor shots being passed around---none of which I refused, though, thinking back on it, I probably should have.



As the night progressed, the living room began to clear as people either wandered around the house and/or yard or danced drunkenly to the bass-polluted music. I remained on my cushion. My boyfriend at the time visited me periodically, to check that I was still conscious, and several of the younger drunk girls tried coercing me into dancing (which I politely declined at every opportunity). I was content in sitting by myself, drink in hand. As it neared midnight, people began to congregate in the small room once more. By this point, I was already so intoxicated that the mass amounts of people crowding my personal space seemed impertinent. It no longer bothered me that strangers were continually touching random parts of my body. That is, until just after midnight, when one of the drunker girls decided to lock me in what she assumed to be a passionate, sexually charged kiss. In reality, it was more of a sloppy exchange of booze-soaked saliva and desperate grabbing.



That was when the night began to blur. Angry yells came raining down in masses, as people watched me push the girl off of me. Granted, I may have been rougher than intended, but because of my near comatose state, I was completely unaware of the strength I was using. The loudest of all these yells belonged to two people: my boyfriend and the young girl's love interest. I tried desperately through slurred words to explain the situation as clearly and as calmly as possible, but amidst all of the ruckus caused by the young girl's show of ill-placed affection, no sense was being made of anything, and the situation simply escalated. By this point, I figured that shutting my mouth would be in the best interest of everyone involved, so I grabbed the two nearest drinks to me, and downed them both in record time. It became evident, within mere minutes, that one of the cocktails I had so eagerly ingested was more than just whiskey. The room began to spin in a way not at all related to my blood-alcohol levels. Apparently, the toxic combination of pills that had been put into the drink were not meant for me. In fact, that amount of narcotics mixed with Jack Daniels should never have been meant for any human being with hopes of being alive 12 hours after ingesting them.



To be entirely honest, I am not sure how I managed to live through the night, let alone get myself into the world of trouble that I managed in my completely obliterated state. After the following events of that night, I almost wish the drugs had gotten the best of me. It was at this juncture of the evening that I blacked out. I remained conscious, but I can't remember a damn thing. All that I can recall is that the yelling continued and that I ended up outside in the cold, coat-less and with only one shoe just barely on my foot. How I even managed to get my foot that far into the shoe is beyond me, but it seems I was able to do a lot of things that should have been impossible. What took place then, as previously mentioned, completely escapes my memory. I am only able to piece it all together with the bits of the story relayed to me by the people that were present, and even then, I don't know how reliable their accounts are.



This is what I was able to come up with: After storming out of the house (most likely because of all the screaming taking place), my boyfriend attempted to follow me as I made a sad effort at walking---stumbling, rather--- home. Lord knows, I never would have made it back alive, but in my condition, I must have been convinced that it was a good idea and that it was going to happen, one way or another. My boyfriend grabbed my arm, and began to pull me back toward the house party. Some say that when this happened, I lost my mind, and I am tempted to believe it. Apparently, after he took hold of my wrist, I turned on him and became extremely violent. Being both higher and drunker than I'd ever been in my life, I must have gotten it in my head that I was being attacked because I fought back with the fury of someone trying to survive. There are a few moments that were clear during the fight. I remember the blood, the terrified look on his face, and the fist coming toward mine. My body went into over-drive, and I continued to lay siege on the man in front of me. Then darkness...everything went black. My body must have finally succumbed to the war the toxins were waging on my system.



I awoke several hours later, but I was not where I remembered last being. Though very cold, I was no longer outside. Instead, I was laying on the stone floor of a jail cell, covered in blood. I was terrified. Not for being in a police station, but because I thought I may have killed someone. That is the only thing that could explain that amount of blood. As it happens, it was a mixture of mine and my boyfriend's. Apparently, the fighting had not stopped when I blacked out. He and I had continued to beat on each other for nearly 20 minutes after I left reality. By this point, some of what had happened was slowly coming back to me, and I began to cry. I was so worried that he was hurt. Then I heard his voice coming from the cell next to mine. Relief shot through my body, giving me the strength to stand up.



Once the police officers realized that I was awake, they came to my door and unlocked it. They lead me to a desk not far from my temporary bed. They asked me to sign a handful of documents and released me. I was escorted home in a cruiser that had blood all over the backseat. I wonder, to this day, if maybe that was the same car that had brought me to the station earlier that morning. When I got back to my house, my body finally came out of shock, and in place of the worry and confusion came searing pain in ever fiber of my being. My face was the worst off. It looked as though a train had hit me. My nose was broken, as was my eye socket, and my bottom lip was split deeply down the middle. The first thing I did was run to the room where my boyfriend was sleeping to make sure he was alright. He told me that they had released him about five minutes before me. After being reassured that he was okay, I fell into a two-day long coma-like sleep. I probably should have been hospitalized, but when given the option, I was too concerned with getting to my bed.



When I awoke on January 3rd, I reached into my jacket pocket for a cigarette, and in place, pulled out copies of the documents I had signed with the police. When I read them, it suddenly dawned on me that I had been criminally charged. This, above all, caused me the most grief. I had spent my whole life avoiding a criminal record, and in one night, all of my efforts went down the toilet. Along with the paper that basically ruined my life as I knew it, was another one, stating that I wasn't to be within 100 feet of my boyfriend. This was ridiculous! Had I known this to be the case, I never would have signed on the dotted line. As it happened, we were living together, so being any distance part was virtually impossible.



A month passed after the incident on New Year's Day, and we had both almost forgotten the situation. That is until a knock on the door brought it all back. I answered the door, wearing a pair of blue plaid boxer shorts and a white tank top. As soon as I opened the door, I was bombarded by three police officers. I was handcuffed and brought upstairs where they roughly shoved me into a pair of jeans and threw a jacket over my shoulders. I was escorted to the courthouse, shortly thereafter. I sat in the basement cell for several hours, awaiting my fate, which came as no surprise---jail time. I was charged with three counts of breach of bail---a bail I had no idea I had agreed to.



Later that day, I was brought to the correctional facility that would become my home for the next fourteen days. I'd write about my experiences while incarcerated, but I would much rather skip over that part, as it was probably one of the worst two weeks of my life. I didn't know what was going to happen to me. I was so new at the whole criminal thing. I wasn't hurt in jail; in fact, I was taken under everybody's wings. I was the youngest girl there---the second youngest being 27. After my release, a fortnight later, I returned to my boyfriend's house (probably the dumbest thing I could have done). Upon my return, I fell heavily into a dangerous speed addiction. I had been using off and on for about a year, but after being locked up, I wanted to do all I could to forget the previous two months.



I was averaging 30 pills a day, and I was hardly sleeping or eating. I slowly felt my sanity slipping away. Two weeks after my release, I was arrested again. This time for attacking someone with a gun. Though I and the few people I was with knew it was completely in self-defense, the police saw it differently, and after arresting me with 36 assault-rifles pointing directly at my vital organs, I was thrown in jail, once again. This time, I was in for twenty-one days. My relationship with my boyfriend came to an end, and my drug use picked up ten-fold. Upon being let go for the second time, I went to live with a friend I had met while serving time. As it happened, her and I became great friends, but were both on separate paths of self-destruction, so were not the best people to have living together. She started out as an alcoholic, but with me around, picked up my pill addiction.



We both became violent and completely unable to reside together. I left after about two weeks of living with her, and after spending one night with another friend of mine, I decided to call my mom and go home. I knew that if I continued down the path I was on, I would have ended up dead before long. She and her boyfriend came and picked me up that night and brought me back to their house. I began working on my addiction problems, but they still had a very strong hold on me. Things broke down very quickly at home, as my mom's boyfriend and I were never able to see eye to eye. I left not long after arriving.



I spent three months couch-hopping before returning to live with them. The whole time I was sober, I was battling the deep regret and misery that came with losing my relationship with my boyfriend. For six months I cried my heart out for hours on end, wanting nothing more than to be with him. I was miserable and barely functional. I was in such a deep state of depression that I never thought I would escape from it. As time passed, I slowly recovered from the loss of love and from the events that took place for the greater part of 2009, but I am still haunted on a daily basis by all that happened. I lose sleep over it constantly, and it greatly affects my emotional state.



I do my best to hold it in, for the sake of those around me, and it is becoming slightly easier to deal with, but I figure that the memory of what happened almost a year ago is what has me so frazzled of late. I guess it is, in some small way, the cold weather that is causing me to feel so morose. The chill in the wind is much reminiscent of the one that coursed through my veins as I laid on the cold marble floor of the jail cell. I know that I will never allow myself to make a mistake as drastic as the one on New Year's, but it is still etched in my mind, and I still can't believe that my life has taken the turns that it has. Ah well, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right? I've managed to lead a fairly normal life since, but I am still dealing with the charges and cannot wait for it all to be over. I want my life back!

Monday, November 2, 2009

Death Of The Inner Child

He pins her down on the bed,


He tells her not to scream.

He says that it won't hurt a bit.

He says it's just a dream.



He says that he won't harm her

If she stays quiet as a mouse.

He doesn't want to wake

The other people in the house.



She bites her tongue. Her eyes burn with tears,

As he picks up the pace.

She whispers "Please don't do this Dad."

He slaps her in the face.



He looks down at her with an evil smile,

As she begins to sob.

He laughs about the innocence

That he's about to rob.



When all is done he looks at her,

And says "it's over now."

He hugs her tight he tucks her in,

And plants a kiss upon her brow.



He leaves the room, she's all alone.

She's afraid to close her eyes.

She breaks down, a shaking wreck,

As the child inside her dies.

Saturday, October 24, 2009

Perfect Imperfection

I should have seen it coming;
Walked in with eyes wide shut.
You'd think that I'd have learned by now;
Would've hesitated, but...

You caught me off my guard, and
You swept me off my feet;
You were the 'Knight in Shining Armour'
I never dreamed I'd meet.

I thought I saw a difference, so
I jumped in without pause,
But I guess even an angel
Has its perfect little flaws

Friday, October 23, 2009

The Power of a Look

It was a few months ago now, but I remember it as though it  happened only moments ago. The bus I was riding stopped at the station. As I peered out of the rain-slicked windows, I saw you. You stood alone, but with an air of confidence that radiated in the damp night. You were busy reading a text message, probably from a lover, but you happened to look up, as though distracted by something. Our eyes locked from 50 feet away. Your gaze found mine amongst the crowd of  hundreds of  people on the platform that night. It was magical. No words spoken, not even a wave, but your look said it all. You held my stare as the bus pulled me from you, and with a simple smile, our lives parted ways. It's strange that a connection so brief has affected me so. I often think about you. I wonder who you are or where you were headed in the rain that night...

Outsider

Quaint, little coffee shop windows, fogged with carefree chatter.
Unaware of the shattered existence plaguing the outside world.
It is bitterly cold, and the rain is pouring down in freezing droves;
However, I am momentarily comforted by the smell of roasting beans that have escaped throught the open door.
An artificial warmth seeps through me;
Almost as though I belonged among the smiling faces for that single instance in time...

Template by:
Free Blog Templates