This could be someone you know

Has anyone ever told you
what it feels like 
to be two parts of one whole? 
To not be sure 
of which half you’ll wake up as
in the morning? 
to feel your heart
constantly wedged in your throat
for fear of saying
what’s on the mind 
of the sad half of you? 

There are some days
I never touch down to reality
some days I feel the clouds
of my ancestors
begging me to be brave
and stand strong
but it’s so hard 
when you’re weak 
from wanting 
to wear the paths 
of your prayers
like circles 
around your fingers
because then there’d be proof
that you’d been searching
for the map all along 
and people might stop thinking 
that maybe 
your just listening 
to the beating 
of your own 
misunderstandings. 

I’ve spent so much time 
becoming acquainted 
with the hole in my pillow 
my head leaves 
when I just want to be left alone.
I’m so afraid 
that if I share the riverbeds
beneath my eyes ,
reveal all the joy 
the darkness
has stolen from me 
that someone 
will start seeing false cracks
in my smile
the way the moon 
saw my tongue 
and tried to fill it with it 
with visions of the fields
so I could run
away with my depression
and build a home for us 
beneath the weeping willows. 

I find it’s better 
if I stay home 
beneath the covers
because then 
I don’t have to explain 
to broken faces
why I can’t find the beauty 
anymore. 

I can’t wake up 
another morning 
with lead in my bones. 

I guess this is my cry for help

 
 

This is not a pretty story

This is not a pretty story

 

This does not have a happy ending.

 

I know there are valleys

and there are mountains

this is the rhythm of life.

I know not every moment

will strike my heart

in wondrous awe

because in order to celebrate

there must be nighttime,

but what happens

when you are traveling

between both at the same time

when there is beauty above

and darkness below

 

..I cannot find myself

I do not know where I have gone

 

I cannot find myself

 

When I grow old

and I tell my children

tales of my youth

what shall I tell them

about my twenty fourth year?

Shall I tell them

that I spend three-fourths of it

working until my bones were dry

and the rest

lying in bed

wondering

if I will ever

be worth something.

 

Will I ever be worth something

or will I constantly fight

the inner clockworkings

of this battered heart?

 

I cannot find myself.

I do not know what shadow

all my happiness has fled behind

even when goodness

overwhelms my heart

like gold

I cannot find myself.

I do not know

where I have gone.

 

I’m fessing up, I’m stuck in an emotional rut.

Okay, I’m going to come right out and say it. I’ve been really struggling lately. Struggling with the fact that I feel like I’m trapped. I know that there are all of these big things in the future in store for us. I also feel like God has been giving me all of these challenges because he wants me to grow so that he can give me the next big things he has planned for me. I’m trying to cling on to my faith, but all I want to do is crawl under a rock and scream. I know He has the bigger picture figured out but I’m sick of this. I’m sick of everything. 

I need someone to talk to about all of this, but it’s so personal and that’s what makes it even more difficult, because I don’t want to open up. Prayer has power, I try to utilize it when I can, but it feels like it only gets me so far as a person. I don’t even know what I’m hoping to get out of this post. I don’t want people running to me begging me to tell them what’s up because they want to get my back. I don’t even know what to say if I tried to talk about it. I just know that I’ll have two or three really good happy days, and then I’m back to wanting to bawl my eyes out. I feel so unstable sometimes, and some days so weak. I know I am strong when He is with me, but where do I find power to overcome the constant, nagging emotions when I can’t find mind control to calm the internal seas? Who do I talk to about the way I’m feeling without feeling like I’m going to be mocked for my emotions. 

Honestly? I feel as a woman, being emotional is something I hate. I don’t want to feel like a rollercoaster all the time. I want to be a stable person. I’m sick of the overwhelming sense that I cannot control how I feel, or the ten different ways I want to react when I’m upset, which is usually some desperate combination of anger, frustration, desperation, and sadness. Does being a woman automatically render me psychotic when I’m emotional? Probably. (Yep, I just sounded misogynistic when I said that I’m sure). 

I know I’m rambling, but somehow this is making me feel a little better. I’m aimlessly wandering. I know He wants to rid me of the American dream, but is it so bad that I want to dye my hair, live in my own house, not be 40 by the time I have children, and maybe do a little bit of traveling. I can’t live here much longer. I need adventure. I know He has to be preparing me for this in some way. It’s the only way I can hang on some days, when work is so shitty I don’t know what to do with myself. I know there is light at the end of the tunnel, I am not without some form of hope. 

There might be a few desperate months ahead, though.