Epilogue.

I'm that girl at the train station A fair distance from the departing car With a smile bigger than the sun and tears glistening on her cheeks

Checking for the time obsessively Five minutes before departure I should leave now Can't be worse than being left alone

She smiles at the tinted window Sending hearts with her hands and mouths I LOVE YOU I love you I love you I love you

Looking off to the side she blinks looks into the light thinking  STOP CRYING STOP IT STOP Let's not break his heart now 

Waving a final goodbye she parts with her last breath of air The man has her heart and soul he's running with it

But she smiles more Eyes wet with devastation  I should just go with him Ready to hop inside 

The scariest moment is not when you've lost someone special, or almost experienced death. That's not the case at all. The scariest moment you could ever experience is when you've lost all control over your thoughts. ALL of it. 

Disgusting pictures are flying at your face restlessly simply because you've lost control. It's not within your capabilities anymore to stop it, it isn't. All you can do is let it hit you square in the jaw, in your eyes, on top of your nose, because you're helpless. A lost cause. 

Strings and strings of words, horrible words, like a broken record just replaying themselves only because they can, and you can't. You can't do a thing to end your misery and you can't do a thing to just get a grasp on your life again. 

What is control? What is freedom of thinking?

Moving always proves to be difficult.  "Oh, it's nothing. I'm not one to be attached," I'd say, but the lie breaks down in front of me when I'm surrounded by the past I'm to pack up into a box. A note I passed with a friend from Grade six, a plastic necklace from Christmas five years ago...all piled up in heaps on the floor. It's the small details that are the worst. The ones that I've long forgotten, the evidence of a feeling that's lone gone. But the worst part is sitting on the floor with the bowl in my hand, eating away with the disassembled table racked up against the wall. It's watching the four walls, the chairs pushed off to a side, the disconnected TV, the sofa covered with a cloth. It's noticing the cracks on the floor that were never there, looking at a space so littered with things but only seeing empty.  Empty, empty, nothing. Everywhere. Will the carpet remember the touch of my feet? Will the walls remember the timbre of my voice? The walls with penciled increments of my sister's height, April, October, January. The lines a few feet above that I know are mine. The small hole on the wall where the calendar hung. The stickers on the side of my vanity in the washroom. The bad paint job left from the people before us. Will the house remember me once I'm gone? If I ever visit again, will the place remind me of the things I've forgotten?

scratching til i bleed my nails dig at my old scars scabs, now little bits at first and then the big pieces

what's healed don't matter because i will uncover them again bring them into the glory of the sun exposed and hurting

the present can eat me up alive but running back is so easy i scratch until i bleed wounds, anew 

my feelings are sick, not my heart nor mind, just my feelings. the silence kills me but i can't listen to my favorite song. all i have is that refrain about a painful breakup sprinting through my head.

i'm sick, so sick. somebody find me a cure. rid of the sick, sad song from my ears, fill up my heart real good, no more holes for me.

heal me, god i'm so damn sick.

There was a time when I thought I knew what lonely felt like. But that really wasn't bad at all. Lonely isn't being alone or having no friends or anything like that. Lonely is not being able to see clearly because there's just too much going on. It's when you notice everything but that doesn't even matter because all it feels like it's just four walls closing in on you. "Let's take an early night today," you would say but you find that when your head hits the pillow your thoughts are still raging and you can't sleep. The stillness of the night is too much and silence is deafening and so you put on some music to hope you'd fall asleep after two tracks like you're meant to. But you don't. The songs take you back to those moments you dread returning to, and they're not even sad memories. It's the happy ones that kill you. When finally you seem to be drifting off...you sneeze and that jolts your entire body and you're so wide awake and so so tired that you sit up from your bed. Maybe I should just stay up the whole night, you're thinking, but you don't because that's what weak people do. They can't sleep so they occupy themselves with other things so they can escape from that void that sucks them in like quicksand. And all this time you're too afraid to look at the clock because knowing what time it already is would probably make things worse. The next morning you wake up with a sore throat and chapped lips and a face so pale it's like you've seen a ghost. And you think to yourself, it's alright now, it's day time, nothing can hurt me.

what is this emptiness in the pit of my stomach what is this clouding my vision what is all of this i feel so broken but i'm not hurt tears are threatening to fall but there aren't any to begin with

There used to be a time when I thought I was tough on the outside but really sensitive on the inside, but those times have gone by. Either I've changed, or it's really because I didn't know who I was back then. I still don't, but I'm definitely not soft at all. I'm a crybaby, but I'm tough as diamonds, if not tougher. Your words may make me cry, but they won't break me, not at all.

There also used to be a time when I thought I was real, but I don't think that anymore either. It feels as though every step I take is calculated and schemed, just how scary can I be? I don't know..

What I really don't understand is how I seem to be happier nowadays, even though I've realized just what an awful person I am, or what an awful person I'm becoming. What is with all this self-loathing...in the new year I'll try to like myself a little more. Just a little would be good I think.

I've written all of them poems, it only makes sense if I write you one too. But when I begin writing, the words so carefully formed inside my mind catch themselves in the tangles the thoughts in my mind have made. How I wish I can write down every detail my heart remembers. The way you smile at me, the way you laugh, the way you look when I catch you staring. How I wish I can find appropriate words to describe that feeling where the clock stops ticking when you're crushing me in your arms. It hurts, but it's okay. How I wish I can capture the glowing aura you emit with the magic of my pen. 

i can no longer breathe my hands a shaking mess give it back to me please give me back my sanity

I love the way his smile sits on his face. I love the way his fingers curl around his beloved instrument. I love the way his vein bulges from his neck when he's playing. I love the way he closes his eyes and drowns himself in his music. I love the way his voice carries over to me, strong and reassuring. I love the way his eyes question something I just said. I love the fact that he's found his passion, and is absolutely determined to chase after his dream. I love the way he smiles at me, because for that split second it is as if I am a part of that dream.

With small steps, I begin to walk into the ocean. "Today, I'll let the waves erase me," I thought inside my weak and pathetic mind. The cold stings but it is okay, anything, I would give anything for a clean canvas. "Please let me start fresh," I plead.

The waves roar as they rush t        o      w     a    r   d s   me and I inhale so deeply that my lungs hurt.  The wind whips the sand onto my skin, I wince, but it's okay. Anything,  anything for a sparkling new start.

Treading through the sea water, I bring myself closer and closer to the center. Today is the day I've been waiting for.

The waves will erase me until I am NEW. With large, brave strides, I let the ocean cleanse my soul as I s   i     n        k           into the embrace  of the waves.

they say memories stay put while people change but it's a lie

they say we'll remember the way they made us feel but it's false

day after day those thoughts inside my head they begin to merge together and in the end all i have is nothing

i remember nothing my memories are all skewed and warped and i have nothing left to live for

in the end those feelings i was so sure i'd never forget they leave me in the cold with myself and tasting the trail of dust they left behind

they said memories stay put even when people change lies all lies

Why worry about tomorrow, when we are still living today? Why let anxiety cloud your heart, when it hasn't happened yet? Why let fears block your vision, when you are able to conquer?

Why let anything be in your way, why let anything destroy your dreams, why let anything change who you are, why not just live?

-nineteenumbrellas-