The new always seems to reflect the old. Never fails. Letting go feels foolish and brilliant. Shines and dulls at the same time. Mistakes are made like bed linens and the distance seems too close to escape. Inspections point out flaws. Scars. Marks that weren’t left by love. Reminders of the hate. Reminders of not being worth….much.
The good ol’ hymns spoke truths. Praise follows repetitive patterns of nothingness. Blank. Black. Nothing. No one wants us to feel anymore. Iced over to heal the unhealable.
Screaming feels more alive than smiling and the darkness has a glimmer of light but I can’t reach it. Fuck it’s far away. I think it’s running from me. It understands I’ve lost it all like my skin is full of Swiss cheese holes and my strength is tattered, torn, marked up by past mistakes and caused the curling into myself.
This life isn’t suppose to look like this. The ropes are frayed, the knots undone and climbing out of this mess just gets me tangled. Trying so hard to come up for air when I’m on the moon and I’m not sure how I even got here. It reflects but has nothing of it own. Let me float away. Lose control. Float to find something lovely like the life I planned when I was 5.
I’m stretched out reaching………….