Transparent Thoughts

I woke up today paralyzed.

100 and 44 weeks straight and this pain hasn't let up.

26,297 hours.

That's three years, and we're going on our fourth. 

I tried opening the blinds but the sunlight hurt.

My skin,

now as familiar with the dark as my mind.

You do your best to change my thoughts, even though you know it's pointless.

But don't give up on me, even if I do. You are stronger than I ever was. 

Remind me to pick up the trash in the basement when I get home, Terry hates when I leave a mess.

I need to start cleaning up after myself and I AM talking about my relationships,

Find me lost but not confused for I am just a hopeless wanderer.

I finally get the blinds open but it took practice.

Facing the day is harder than it looks, even when the day is beautiful. 

I can see out along the park,

New leaves arrived on branches marking signs of spring; new life.

Wish I could restart.

Fight the current when there's no chance in beating it because it forces us to use hope,

and without it we only know reality, and that fuckin' sucks.

Write your own eulogy and put it in the refrigerator, remind yourself everyday of the marks you made on this world, because in the end these are only marks on my pages, words from my mouth,

Spoken softly but bold.

Lay down on the grass and ignore the itch, this is a moment worth making a memory considering the circumstances.

Contentness seems to come on it's own terms and she's been on a 4 year vacation.

Remind her that you're still here, just because your eyes are closed doesn't mean you are blind, 

Eyelids only SEEM so heavy.

Carve my name in with stone, if there's a spark, just know it's nothing more than friction.

Fires may start easy, but the ending is not.

As is love.

No worries,

I hear the sirens, fire trucks are coming.

I hear the sirens and help is on the way.

I hear the sirens and I DO wish it were I who could save this love,

but this world isn't a wish-granting factory.

Once again, we are back to reality, and that fuckin' sucks.

The leaves, they do turn green once again but only for limited time.

Soon enough, we will only be watching brown, dried up scraps left behind from fall, falling to the ground only to comprehend the dead truth behind another winter creeping near.

The process repeats. 

The cycle of life.

The cycle of life?

Dont feed me that bulllshit!

There is far too much unknown and undiscovered to remain in concept that this "cycle of life" is universal. Last time I checked, Cancer was NOT a part of some cycle of life. Last time I checked, addiction was NOT a part of some cycle of life...

Last time I checked these are cycles of death, and we continue to tell ourselves it is living that we do. 

So as I look out through my window amongst the park, I choose to keep in mind the truth of the leaves. The blinds are open as I see through squints.

Thoughts racing, Contentness still on vacation.

When you come back home, you find reality once again,

and that fuckin' sucks.

 

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