I'm drowning so thoroughly in the banality of my existence that I can't even express the emptiness adequately.

Hidden in the Spaces In Between

And when I can’t sleep the demons begin to beat me down;
I become smaller and smaller with each passing day. 
Each thought is a starburst inside my brain; 
behind my eyes I go blind. 
This is a lost place, an in between place, a place of fury and fear, of confusion and relentless clamoring.

The Pendulum

And all the sudden the balance in my brain tips precariously the wrong way and I instantly become a liar and a fraud.
Though it isn't sudden, I've been fighting for days, weeks, years, forever to feel the truth of reality.
Reality hurts, cuts more deeply than any knife I've ever wielded against myself, and I bleed.
There is no relief.
I tried to warn everyone, or at least those that matter the most to me,
I cried out in fear.
Love and reassurance have lost their power as I become a liar.
I cannot or do not know where I am in this whirlwind and
Am so horribly bereft at being caught again.

Symbols and Structure

I am preoccupied with my hair.
I have been conditioned to consider it:
Beauty
Power
Statement
Color
Vitality
Lift
Life.
I once wrote about my hair as a handle. The sore scalp. The fear.
I didn't write about who used my hair that way. I didn't want to level accusations.
Now I scream:
It is MINE.
I once wrote about my hair as a secret.
Keeping the length hidden away. The luxury.
Now, I say,
This is me. All of it.
I dream of writing about my hair as an asset. A treasure. Adored and precious.
I will have this
Beauty
Power
Statement
Color
Vitality
Lift
Life
I will do it
My
Way.
My way will be better than any of you could have conceived it to be.
My way will be better than I can believe.
My way will be bigger than I dream.

Dithering

I wonder sometimes what people will say when I'm dead.
Which eccentricity will be remembered and repeated?
How many bits of paper will surprise?
How many secrets did I manage to keep?
Then I remember: it won't matter to me. I'll be gone.
Still, I'll work harder to tell the truth, because lies will poison everything.
I have dreams, visions of these things, all blurred together and confused
As I grow old.

Half Away

I opened the door, and there it was, the moon full overhead carefully framed by all the buildings and street lights.
I stood there, staring straight up into the sky, feeling the cold creep over my skin and the light cover my face
And I wanted to weep.
Like a temperamental flower I seek the warmth and sun and long gentle days of early summer.
The crazy blackness in my head makes the night seem so frightening that I can't bear witness to it anymore.
But then, at that moment, the full moon was so breathtaking and the cold so bracing and all the blackness gave way.
I didn't realize how empty the days are without the night sky. I've forgotten the moon lit musings.
I can't find the poetry in the daylight - I think I need too much.
I can't find the moon often enough in these circumstances
And so I suppose I must change.

Confrontation

I told someone again. I used words that I wrote years ago because I've lost the connection and my current thoughts are all jumbled up.
I used the old words. It hurt.
I suppose that's the root the bottom the end the beginning the tangled web of then and now - the hurt.
I thought it was gone. Maybe it was, for awhile.
It's a thing that's never buried, never over, never gone, no matter how much I wish it away
Or lock it up
Or hide behind the daily tasks of life
And in that place of truth I am
Despaired.
How often the things we want are stripped away to our basic need
I hold on so tight and it hurts;
The jagged edges of life are uninspiring, even ugly;
Confronted, I am turning away.
Until I tell again. Using words from so long ago because I've lost the connection and my current state is so full of suffering.
Because I cannot hide, I cannot bear up under the weight of these expectations.
In the lies of my despair I cannot rephrase or remain silent.
I am absolutely certain that I am being taken over and that I am being found,
Bloodied.
It hurts.