Broken Scales

Distorted images of laughing children and falling autumn leaves dot my eyesight and I imagine a better place in time when things made that much more sense. I could go on for days on how the beginning of love and a new heartbreak is like tasting sugar as it compares to salt but I think we're all past that now... I'd like to think somewhere down the line I was right, you know? I've always seen your part of things, the vision that I had the world viewed, and I guess for a while I was content thinking I knew you. Thinking we got each other. But simply put we don't. We are two separate beings. You, me and the middle air between the grass and the sky. It’s just us in this room after all. I can only breathe in the dirty air because this box I’ve been buried in is just sealed too damn tight. Or maybe I’m not strong enough to break free. Maybe I’m not the person I thought I was. Maybe, just maybe, I’m not good enough to know you. Or the rough imitation of you that I see. Only sometimes. The you that I’d never allow to bleed as much as I have, to cry the amount of tears that I have, even if you have, I’d not allow it a second time. But here I sit thinking thoughts at my computer wondering truly what I did wrong... My nature says to apologize but I’m not even sure what for. I just really don’t want to consider all of the things that just don’t make sense anymore. Because at the end of the day none of it ever made sense. It was always just do and go with it all. Maybe one day. Just maybe I’ll be able to see the sunlight from under the water while I sleep with my eyes open. Regretfully, I will not be able to smile at the stars, and chase the moon as I would have had I had the power to move my legs. I’d like to think this is what it’s like to come down from being high... this feeling of everything rushing in on me at once... in just the last few weeks I’ve lost a good friend to my self centered narcissism. I dare not lose another, however I think this path has been treaded. Not many feet have seen this road but I do believe someone walked here before. I do believe someone was here before me. I’d like to think I know your footsteps when I see them... Someone tells me that we take care of each other but I’m not sure which one of us is the infant child, though I realize I’ve been dropped quite a few times. I’m not complaining. I understand children have little arms. I know that a heart that beats so strong for others is kind of heavy as I know I’ve dropped you as well. I guess this is why they tell you to carry yourself and not worry about tripping over someone else’s shoelaces. I can only imagine the amount of anguish that was caused. I won’t say that I caused, because I know I wasn’t the only one at fault, though I’d gladly take all the blame if that meant that you wouldn’t have to feel any. I just wonder about the days when I would sit and think, just think about all the things that never got said, all the things that wouldn’t have happened had I opened up my mouth and spoke. But this is what happens when I’m backed up into a corner when I feel like I’ve done wrong, when I’m out right told in the nicest way possible, that my feelings just don’t matter. That I should have thought about someone else. How’s that for narcissism? I just can’t see what I’ve done wrong. I don’t want to carry on a conversation of all the things I should have done differently. I mean, if I had a time machine and I could somehow visit that point in time to redo it all, then yes, this is exactly what I want to be doing. However that kind of technology has not been invented yet, so I don’t really wish to be scolded. At all. So thanks, for the one-sided conversation, because I’m not giving you actual answers. I’ve become quite choked up. Not so much in a bad mood, just not in one where I can make competent conversation. Sorry. Again I sit and think, staring up at a ceiling that resembles the galaxy and all the cosmos to behold, but I’m not high. I’m simply reminiscing, and in that small interval of time, I realize I’ve been eating salt while smelling sugar. You see it’s a funny comparison between the two. You’d not know which one you were eating unless you taste it, by then you’d of already bought the bag, and now you have about a pound of one or the other. But you’d never know. No distinct smell, they both feel and look the same, so how does one tell the difference? There is no answer exactly, and I found this to come to me as I stared up at the planets. Circling my head like a new universe about to explode and take form before my eyes. I love watching the stars dance. I enjoy hearing the ocean, though I’m quite partial to drowning in the strong, purposeful turrets of water as I flail purposelessly around searching for a grip of land that stayed at the shore that I am now miles away from. I think I’ve forgotten how to float. But I’m not complaining. There’s so just so many pretty fish to look at under the sea. At that moment before I take in that breath that will stop my lungs from working correctly, I listen to the heartbeat that I’ve gotten so accustomed to, and I hear the resonance of the second heartbeat that always seems to accompany this one. I’m not sure if it’s the ghost of thoughts, the things I’m wishing for most right now, or the cruel mockery of the thing I realize I’ve lost. I smirk to myself. Surely, I know the difference between dreams and reality, though I do chase the clouds in broad daylight, while I dream. I believe this is a daydreamer, but I realize your nightmares don’t wait until it becomes dark and your eyes close to set fire to the dainty flowers you’ve planted in your secret garden… I often wonder what it would be like to fly. But through most of this, I was sure that’s exactly what I thought I was doing; well, up until the point when I began to be tossed by the wind. The storm in my mind that rages every day, every moment of my life. Oops… not even my most private papers know this… I feel, un-whole. Empty. Like, I’m just not that good for anything, nothing than the talents I try to show everyone I have. Really, I just want someone to be proud of me. I just want someone to see that I am special too as well… I just. I... I just want to be accepted by society. To feel like I belong with or just to someone. I just want to be somebody in this nobody world. There are plenty of people in this world who have made something of them. The one who sings blues but gives it so much body and feeling, I think they should change the name of this genre for this very reason. My bunny rabbit. Or the girl who works like a woman. Who can don kid shoes only to put on big girl heels the next day, nose already ready for the grind stone. My music child. The other one, who has known so many issues during these last few months but still, stays up at night to listen to me blabber on about things that just aren’t relevant. Me and my narcissism… the girl who shares my first name... I just don’t know my worth. I have no clue what I’m here for; I know I’d have found at least that out by now. I’m just useless. Totally and utterly useless… there’s just no doubt in my mind that I have no purpose. Other than to make life harder for everyone else, because that’s all I seem able to do. I’m a burden to my poor mother. All I do is add to the problems of my friends, no wonder I’m not included in various conversations of friendly banter… because I most absolutely don’t belong… I envision a meadow. It’s a beautiful picture, really, many different flowers swaying in the cool breeze, hanging on to dear life, but then again not really. And I see a dandelion. Not a whole one. Because every time the wind blows, pieces come off, and the stem is soon left alone… That’s me. As scattered as ever. And stupidly I’ve left my center on the ground as I decided to float up and over the trees, only to get lost in the clouds…. Selfish is what I am, and yet I still find myself caring for others, but I guess we all have our own separate forms of selfishness… I just… I want to not be me. I don’t do this for sympathy, I don’t even want an it’s ok, it’ll be alright… I just want it to be alright. I tire of the empty promises of forever and how long it won’t last. I just want someone to be to me as I am to them. I know I have that in someone, but who am I to take away their happiness because I can’t be? I wonder if I do the right thing by waking up every morning. I don’t question whether or not if someone will miss me if I go, and leave myself smiling under the water. Because I know someone will. But for how long? For how long will they stop and shed a tear at the thought of me? How long until they’ve found a replacement? How long until I’m forgotten? Like the rain, I’ll wash over their thoughts like a passing storm. I know someone will take care of the hearts I’ve damaged so much, I know someone will come along and fill the void I’ve caused. I know… because while my head was under the water, and I was watching my multicolored rose glitter in the starlight while my head was under the water, a little birdie told me so…