I got words, words that for you to understand them, you would probably have to rip them from my chest. What comes out of my mouth or flows through my fingertips will hardly relay my reality. My words can be smooth, they say, but smooth is not what I feel…its dangerous and ragged, like constant hurricane waters, sharpened edges, jagged rocks, razor cuts, machette chops.
As if caught in some mad ratchet reality warp, it hurts, even at moments when I am most happy…groggily thrown between happy and horrified, will this make me crazy? Looking back and looking forward, I am thankful for the moments when I can just be still in the present reality. There it is happy and beautiful, my smiles and wide and my laugh…relieving, and for that moment, the pain doesn’t exist, hell…it didn’t even happen.
Then the hole in my chest returns, without notice and very uninvited, and I miss you, and I wish I could share this happiness with you, wished it were your eyes looking back at me, your lips kissing me…like before. Dont get me wrong…these brown eyes are sincere and beautiful; the lips are unsolicited, frequent and roaming. But they are new, there is no history, nice but not yet comfy. Unfamiliar arms, unfamiliar situations, people and places, every single thing is new, I can’t even bear to look at you…lest I run back to your cold arms again, craving all the things I once knew.
In this place I am torn, sitting stitching the pieces together…breathing…telling myself this is LIFE. Struggling to push the door shut, trying my hardest to move on, hoping the tears will be less frequent and the pain, all gone.