Suffocation by emotions....

I want to cry out and scream and have tears stream from my eyes onto the pavement. I want them crush the concrete with their sorrows. To melt away the city, and the hate out of my heart. I want to escape to a field of bright flowers, and sunshine. Where rain doesn't exist, where there are always cottony clouds in the cerulean skies, and shinning stars like scattered diamonds on a black velvety sheet in the night skies. I just want to lay there and hear the crickets sing their night songs, and the birds to fly over my head , cutting the blue sky like knives. To feel the wind carreess my face, and the sun's rays to reassure me that everything is simple and good. To smell the earth, as it used to be. Untrammeled and free. When did I grow up? When did I leave innocence behind and start to be an "adult"? Why can't things be easy, and simple, broken down to inferior levels, for my simple mind to understand? I miss it. I don't know why I have been feeling like this. I take no interest in anything anymore. I just don't care anymore. It's all mechanical. I'm set to autopilot. Wake-up. Drive. Work. Drive. Sleep. Sleep is the only time where I don't feel like I am suffocating. I feel free to dream of things, how I wish they would be. My life feels like it is ending, even though it has just really begun. I have nothing to complain about really. But I still feel so suppressed. Like I can't take deep breaths, like I might break down and cry. Fill the world with my tears, and drown everything out of the world. I want to go home. To my family. I want to just give up and end it all. I don't know why, though.

This health thing has really fucked up my head and broken my heart.

I feel insanely depressed in my heart. It has sunken. I can't make it better. I'm terrified. Not for me. But for my son. I don't want to not be here to watch him grow up and care for him. I don't want my family to think I left too soon. I don't want to die. I haven't started living, yet! Or experience any pain. Because that only hurts the ones that love me. I wish I could go back in time. Fix it. But I can't. I'm scared to take care of it. I don't feel beautiful or sexy. I feel like my body is rotting from the inside. That is not attractive. I just.....I don't know. I feel so damn twisted inside as though there were multiplying knots in me. I'm anxious, fearful, and terrified. Everytime I go back, it's worse. I don't know how I could take another call back saying that they have to do something else. I just don't want so many things. I see my life unraveling. Why me? I know that is the egotistical way of thinking of things when they happen to us. But I still believe that whoever is up there, won't give me a burden that she/he doesn't think I can handle.

I still want to cry. Just simply cry. Until I feel dried up inside. But it doesn't do anything. My tears will sit and dry up inside of me, and just become the dust that is anger. I will be angry at myself, and the irresponsible choices I have made. I have put my own health at risk, and maybe even the people that I love the most, my child and Randy. This isn't fair to him, either. I can't help it that I feel betrayed by my body. That I can't even feel as though I'm still attractive in his eyes. Even a chaste kiss feels like I am just infecting him with my failing health, and my depression. I have been deceived by my health. I will never be the same again. If I ignore it, it will only get worse, but if I "treat" it, there's still chances that I will have to deal with this again, and maybe have complications, if we ever do decide to have a child, together. I hate that I can't even guarantee that everything will be okay. I can't even offer either of them stability right now. And I feel flimsy, and fragile. I feel so human.

Maybe, I have needed this. I have needed to remember how to feel real. How to not take things for granted anymore. That I have been so blessed in my short lifetime, to have a beautiful healthy (albeit annoying at times) boy, a wonderfully loving (if crazy and obnoxious) family, and a man that loves. Really does love me. And doesn't run away and coward from my problems. He supports me and treats me like I am gold. Like I am actually worth the trouble. And for that I should be thankful. I'm sorry that I have been, how I have been, Randy. You deserve so much more than I will ever be able to offer you.

Relient K-"When I Go Down"

I'll tell you flat out
it hurts so much to think of this
so from my thoughts I will exclude
this very thing thatI hate more than everything is
the way I'm powerless
to dictate my own moods
I've thrown away
so many things that could've been much more
and I just pray
my problems go away if they're ignored
but that's not the way it works
no that's not the way it works
when I go down
I go down hard
and I take everything I've learned
and teach myself some disregard
when I go down
it hurts to hit the bottom
and of the things that got me there
I think, if only I had fought them

If and when I can
clear myself of this clouded mind
I'll watch myself settle down
into a place where
peace can search me out and find
that I'm so ready to be found
I've thrown away
the hope I had in friendships
I've thrown away
so many things that could have been much more
I've thrown away
the secret to find an end to this
and I just pray
my problems go away if they're ignored
but that's not the way it works
no that's not the way it works

Any control I thought I had just slips right through my hands
while my ever-present conscience shakes its head and reprimands me
reprimands me
then and there
I confess I'll blame all this on my selfishness
yet you love me
and that consumes me
and I'll stand up again
and do so willingly

You give me hope, and hope it gives me life
you touch my heavy heart, and when you do you make it light
as I exhale I hear your voice
and I answer you, though I heardly make a noise
and from my lips the words I choose to say
seem pathetic, but it's fallen man's praise
because I love you
oh God, I love you
and life is now worth living
if only because of you
and when they say I'm dead and gone
it won't be further from the truth

When I go down
I life my eyes up to you
I won't look very farcause you'll be there
with open arms
to lift me up again
to life me up again

Valentine's Day Massacre

Valentine's Day is among us once again. And it must be a busy day for most people who are fortunate enough to be in a relationship at the current moment. Roses, romantic candlelit dinners, chocolates, sweet cards. I almost want to feel sorry for all the guys out there that try so hard to make their significant other happy. I've never been a person that demanded to be wined, dined and all that fancy stuff. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm just like any other warm-blooded woman. I love all that mushy-romantic stuff. I enjoy it! But that doesn't mean that I want it on the same day that some major card producing company decided to make every living man guilty and make them actually take out one day a year, to celebrate an over-commercialized and "romantic" holiday just for us ladies. I'm a sucker for surprises. I like that better. I like special "we" dates much more than just some day in the middle of February. I guess my hatred for such day stems from my earlier experiences as a child, and young adult with this holiday.

I am positive everyone can remember having to go to school with at least enough "Valentine" cards for everyone in your classroom. Having to make a little "mailbox", and getting time to share your cards. I remember those days. I also can recollect being forgotten not just by one or two other classmates but by almost a dozen, in 3rd grade. I was a rather shy and quiet kid, who spent most of my early schooling in the front of the class, napping from boredom. It really hurt to be forgotten like that. I remember my teacher giving me a beautifully handmade card she made for me. But it still couldn't replace the fact that I had been overseen. I guess in truth that card she made me was worth more than the cheesy valentine cards that the valentine nazis make for kids.

Fast forward to the tender age of 15. I was allowed to date, and I had a "boyfriend" (someone I'd much rather now call a make-out buddy!). He worked in one of those stands that sells flowers and bears and all that other Valentine's crap for people to pick up on their rush home. It was Valentine's and I was excited to actually have a boyfriend, plus he worked at the flower stand, so he had NO excuse to forget! I see his buddy walking towards me with a dozen white roses, and a big plush white bear. I was delighted! I ran and opened the door, clawing at the card like a derranged woman! I look around to my family, and see the approval on my mother's face. She asks me to read it out loud. Hurriedly, I tear it open and what do I see?

"Hey, sorry...But I don't want to go out with you anymore, I found someone else.

Happy Valentine's Day.

-Marquez"

My heart sank to the floor. I couldn't believe it. He had sent his friend, Bubba to break up with me. He couldn't even be man enough to do it himself. So, after that experience and having to be humiliated in front of my family, not to mention, Bubba. My brother kinda smirked. And my mom said, It's okay. You'll be alright. Are you kidding me? I just got broken up through a card on Valentine's day!

So, I suppose that is where my hatred can be explained in those small instances. It's funny, though. My kitchen has always been decorated in a Valentine's theme. Why? Because I love red, white, and hearts! I love red roses. I have a pretty large tattoo of a red rose on my back. It's a cute holiday, but it makes people feel left out, inadequate, and just plain silly. I hate going to the stores and seeing all these plush gorillas and bears. I mean what actual grown adult wants these in there bedroom, or their house even?! It's so ridiculous! Now chocolates, that's better. But who wants a heart shaped box of cheap chocolates? Get me a couple truffles from Godiva, and I'll be good. And not just on the 14th of February. How about any other day of the year, just because you thought of me on the way home.

Love shouldn't be about chocolates, or how many roses you can get at work. Or what posh restaurant you can get into on Valentine's. Don't get me wrong, it's nice to receive every once in awhile. But that's the commercialism of love. Real love isn't candlelit dinners and romantic escapades each day. It's about those times when you're sick, and they still find you attractive. It's them schlepping in the snow to go get chili when your belly desires it. It's driving further away than your house after work, to spend some time with that person. It's a million other things. Romance is dying, they say. But it isn't if you have the heart to do things for one another out of love. Valentine's Day is stupid, if you let it ruin February for you.

Happy Valentine's Day......

May you all not have a massacre....

A Million Pieces

A million pieces rested on my soul. The shimmer of them gleamed in the sunlight. I see the black trees stretch out into the infinite sky. Provoking the clouds as they reach up above into that gray emptiness. I see each piece, yet I don't see just one. They are all blended together. Chained to one another, and blurred into the same piece. I call upon them to separate and redeem themselves to my heart. But I couldn't gather the courage to speak out agaisnt them. I see them and feel them. They taunt me as they are infinitely chained together. Stronger than any of my words. Always on the verge of tears. The angry words spill from my mouth with such rashness. I continue to emmulate the one thing I have feared for so long. No, I can't carry on. The weight of the million pieces lay heavily upon me. I want to breath. To let go. To see more. To live more. The black trees shudder in the wind. I hear their mournfull songs. As if they knew what would become of me. Dancing to a song I can't hear, shuddering and whispering old languages of foreign times. I see the glimmer of sun peeking through the clouds. In a million little pieces. A million pieces of leaves, scattered on the ground. A million pieces of my life scattered over many states. A million pieces of perfection discarded onto me, onto my life. I see it all. The beauty of each morning, as the sun shines through my window. The million pieces of sun crashing through my half-drawn shades. The million pieces of ideas, thoughts, words left unspoken. The million pieces of love I see each day. A million pieces of hate also drowning in the streets. They fall from the sky. Angry and sad. Remorseful, like hot tears in the sun. It's all pieces. Each little piece creating my life. Establishing memories and creating new dilemnas. I can't make the choices, yet. I thought I knew what I wanted. That each piece fell into my puzzle the right way. But they haven't fallen into the spaces that I had made for them. Things have shattered when they weren't supposed to break, things have taken root when I have not sowed any seeds, and things that were once constant are no longer reliable. A union, that was meant to be taken seriously was not. It broke into a million pieces. Each facet of that, reminding me of my failures, of my mistakes, of my humaness. I am not perfect. I have cried over those million pieces. A million tears. One for each piece. And I have laughed for each, also. I will look back at the mess that I have made, and smile. It's what I do. I mess things up. I break things. I'm clumsy. I trip and I fall. I get back up. And I fall again.

It's me.

Those million pieces.

They are all the essence of me.

And who I have become.

And who I will be.

Those grains of sand on my palm. That earthy grain. The smell of sea salt, and waves and simmering sunshine. The dirt on my face. The mossy grass filled with water. The rustling trees that shudder in the cold winds. The enraged teardrops of unhappy clouds. That is me. I am the earth. I came from it, and to it I shall return.

In a million pieces.

I've been meaning to do this.....

But I hardly have the time....

I have wondered about you, for so long now.

To hear your voice, well...is frightening.....

I thought that we had settled this and had said our goodbyes...

But it seems that you keep interrupting my life....

I don't know why, or how you can't let go.

You've hurt me and I just can't carry on, in this fashion.

I promised to get rid of all the dead weight in my life.

You call, as though I shall return the call, with so much despair and hurt in your voice.

But I can't help but not listen to it.

For it is murderous in my ears.

I hope you learn to let go.

Your past indiscretions have deceived me greatly....

But worse, you've disappointed me.

So, here goes....

Goodbye, Mom.