About time

 

I am going to try but I don't have words that are strong enough

I can clean like no one's business and you would never imagine the devastation.

I am the great faker; you have no idea the things that I can endure and still continue to smile.

I am a 10 on the pain scale and I can still do what is asked of me

My heart is in a vise that has shown no signs of letting loose

My soul is a melted ice cube on the floor with no way to gain form 

My body in a state of ruin to many visitors that took until there was no beauty left

I am not ok,  I am really not ok

I feel like I am drowning.

The pictures play, the memories repeat and slowly I am slipping

I can't find sleep, even when I do all I see are things that I can never ever unsee

So, yes sleep is a dreadful thing

The nightmares so vivid, and more than surreal . 

The blood stains the floor and people pretend not to see.

All the people that have failed me and her, they turned the other way they don't look back

I am nothing

I smile, pretend that I don't notice 

I keep going, and I am still lying

I am alone so alone and all they see is the smile

I choke on my own words , I can not have another soul leave me, hurt me use me  

I can't breathe , I struggle to find a single breathe of air but even when I do it isn't quite enough

Picture that fish gasping, on the shore, taken from his home and forgotten 

 too far from the water and not close enough to call for help

This is my everyday, this is my reality and all they see are smiles. 

I don't know how to do this, and I fear the exodus if others truly saw what's inside

I hate the word depressed, but it might be fitting.

Did I just admit that?

It  only took me 48 years, it's been so much to hold.

No, I have never been ok.

Either I can't find the tears, or they come like a sudden storm leaving as fast as they come 

Can't show weakness in this state, that would be deadly.

There is this mighty damn holding so much pain . if that breaks well think world war 3 

I can't get out of my own way

My bones feel as if they are going to explode and turn to dust; there will be nothing left of me. 

Like the feather that has fallen from a broken bird's wing, 

maybe someone will pick it up someday and think she must have been beautiful.

I find myself waiting for some understanding that is going to make everything ok 

Some magic string of words to glue all the broken pieces together

I am trapped inside my own head, in a cycle of pain.

I look out the window and see the greatness, 

but it feels like Mount Saint Helens looming in the distance.

So much to accomplish, but I am on my own fighting for dear life

I am restless, weary, heartbroken and not ok

As Always, I heart your heart.