Glass

What do we do, when the ones we care about are broken?

Do we punish the ones who have hurt them? Make them pay for their crimes. Show them what broken really looks like.

Do we try to fix them or do we leave them shattered like broken glass. Millions of a whole sparkling in the dirt.

It is hard to love a broken thing. When things break we replace them…it’s easier than taking the time to mend them. Easier to forget about what is broken. Who is broken. No one wants to be reminded of the things that are broken…the people they have broken.

I saw her broken. She laid there, like glass. Silent…though silence was never something she longed for. I couldn’t touch her. She was sharp. Her shards laid at my feet. I didn’t break her, but I cannot fix her. I don’t know how. I want to. I want what once was. This bond between us, shatter by those who hurt her. Beat her down into the dirt. Shoved their words into her like daggers. Tore apart what was left of her. Somehow she rose. A million pieces. She rose up, still shattered and she glistened in the sun. I couldn’t fix her. I don’t know if she even wanted to be fixed. Perhaps she likes being broken? Perhaps the glass makes her enemies tremble with fear. She is strong, even though she is shattered. Her strength is the greatest sword ever built.


For my dearest and oldest friend.

Stay strong.

–R.

Gone

There once was a girl who sat and stared at nothing, until she faded away. She was like a rainbow, beautiful for a moment, catching all eyes and then gone…as if she had never been there to begin with.

 

 

 

 

Welcome to November!

I’m grateful for the week I had off from classes, because without it I feel as though I’d be a complete mess right now. I just kept saying to myself, “It’s almost reading break. It’s coming. The end is near. Just three essays, two exams and you’re free!” and somehow I managed to survive.

I kept getting sick during that time. I think I was so stressed and overwhelmed that my body began to react. I had constant headaches, and nausea. Never happened to me before…but after all of the stuff I’ve been through since last April…boy. I’m lucky I didn’t just snap and tear my hair out.

I managed to do a lot of writing and artwork over the break. I even got to work on my music, which was a lot of fun. I enjoy goofing around with my piano and guitar when I think no one is home…my sister screamed, “Shut up!” after about fifteen minutes. I was jokingly singing Chandelier…but it turned into a screamo edition and I sang “I want to screeeeeeam!” instead of “I want to swing.”

Anyway, you probably didn’t need to know that but basically I’m doing a lot better. I don’t feel like I’m a zombie anymore, I haven’t had any nausea or headaches, and things have been a lot less stressful back home. Plus, now school is settling down a bit…it’ll be busy again in a week or two but at least right now I can pace myself and get my head in the right place.

I guess I’d never been so stressed out in my life. I let it all build up from April. I refused to let myself crack…and then finally I just broke down. Which sucks because here and there I was finding myself slowly crumbling after trying to build myself back up. That’s why I’m glad that I had a week where I didn’t have to worry so much about school, or friends or anything and I could just catch up on sleep, draw and write and relax. I needed that break. I know if I had kept trying to push myself I’d have completely shut down. I usually try to be a very optimistic person but that side of me just vanished. I feel a lot more like myself these days. I’m goofing around with my friends again, I’m reading in my spare time (even though all I do is read for class), and I’ve set some goals for myself that I’d like to meet by my last exam date in December.

So, November I welcome you with open arms. I’m in good spirits despite the cold weather and the rain. Although I tend to write a lot of very depressing poetry in the winter (according to my creative writing professor), I will try to write something…warm and fuzzy. Not corny. Warm and fuzzy. Like…a nice blanket or a fluffy animal or some sort.

This was longer than usual.

Till next time,

— R.

 

Train of Thought(s)

So it’s 1 am, and I’m so tired that my minds running like a get away train.

You know when you’re about to fall asleep and all those thoughts come rushing in, so you start thinking all these really deep things.

For example, last night before falling asleep I questioned why I was wearing black all week. I sure wasn’t grieving. I mean, nobody died… then I thought, “Maybe I’m just reflecting what I’m feeling on the inside? I’m feeling pretty down in the dumps…let’s face it I’m depressed.”

When you actually admit it to yourself, there’s this feeling you get. It’s not this feeling that you’re depressed, it’s this feeling like your choking from the inside. Like you wanna scream but you can’t.

I try not to admit those kind of things to myself. I’m scared of being crazy. I don’t think I’m crazy, but if I were crazy I don’t think anyone would ever talk to me. I’m lonely enough thanks. Just thinking things like that bugs me. Then again, a lot of things bug me lately. It rains too much, it’s too cold, people are too damn loud or too damn quiet. There’s not enough lighting, or it’s too bright. I’m thinking so much about everything that I can’t think at all. Its driving me up the wall. Up. The. Bloody. Wall.

You ever feel like you just wanna hit somebody? You know you won’t actually hit anyone, but you want to. You just wanna clench your fist and swing your arm real fast till smack, there she goes…and you can just stare at yourself in disbelief because you really hit that guy. Poor fella…didn’t really deserve it. You were just having a bad day.

I’ve felt like hitting someone lately and that someone is myself. Talk about beating yourself up. I literally would love to. If I could, I’d clone myself and beat myself to a pulp…I call myself an idiot in my head. I do it all the time. I’d never say it aloud. That’d be admitting to it. When words are said out loud they come true. They don’t come true when you think and un-think them. All this thinking and un-thinking…exhausting. I wish I could sleep but I can’t. I’m too tired to sleep. My minds racing. Worst part of it is, I can function on little sleep without coffee. I’ve had coffee twice in my life. It’s awful stuff. Bitter. I’ve got a sweet tooth. I’d rather drink pop or a cup of tea with three large spoons of sugar. That’s why I’ve had so many cavities in the past…it’s all this dang sugar. I can’t wait till I can go home. Don’t get me wrong, living on my own is fun and all, I can leave my room messy without my mom nagging me about it, and I don’t have anyone complaining to me about anything, but I need to get home. I feel like if I don’t get home I’ll break.

One can pretend they’re okay for so long until they just break.

I’m so tired my eyes sting. They’re watering. I’d sleep if I could…I sure would…but these dang thoughts just keep on coming. I’ve gotta get up for class at 8 am. It’s 2 now. I’m feeling hungry, light headed…feeling awful. Just awful. Why can’t I just push a button and say, “Racing thoughts let me sleep. Do not make another peep!” These thoughts make me sad…real sad. Like there’s something wrong with me. Guess there is something wrong with me. I still haven’t changed outta these dirty clothes and I’m talking to a brick wall. Yah a bloody, cold brick wall. Nothing’s getting through that thing. If I were a brick wall I’d be better off. No more of this feeling like beating myself up and curling up at night staring at the ceiling. No more being a big suck. No sir, I’d be unmovable…unless you took something and smashed me in. You’d need a wrecking ball for that. Sadly, I’m no brick wall….not emotionally anyways.

Some people must think I’m unapproachable but I just don’t approach people. There’s a difference. I like people. I like to watch them, talk to them….but I over think before I say anything. So instead of worrying myself about what I should say, I don’t say anything at all. Makes things much easier on me…being shy and all.

These are the kind of things that run through my head constantly. It’s like a runaway train. There’s no stopping it. It just keeps speeding down this track. I never know where it’ll end up…I think that’s the depressing part. Not knowing.