Blog

I try to speak
but the words get stuck in my throat.
I try to scream
but the sound gets stuck in the silence.
I try to write
but the thoughts get stuck in my mind.

I try to live
but the demons are pushing me to the edge,
and I’m too weak and tired to fight back.

It was like I was trying to
run away from who I was
while at the same time
trying to chase who I think I am.

And somehow I find myself
in the predicament
of running away
but yet running to
myself.

I was reaching for my phone,
excited because I’ve just met a boy
who was kind and considerate;
down to earth and sweet;
thoughtful and intelligent;
ready to ask for your opinion –
about whether the attraction was real
or just an imagining in my head;
on what I should do
if anything at all should be done –
until I remembered
that we don’t talk anymore.

With my hand floating over my phone,
I think about all the texts that I had composed
but had never sent;
I think about all those times I dialed your number,
but didn’t call you;
I think about all the unsaid words that began to accumulate
until it became a wall of silence between us.

And I wonder, again,
if we could ever be the same
as we were before –
at a time when conversations
came as easily as sunlight;
at a time when laughter
came as naturally as moonlight.

Back to the days,
I said with certainty
that you were my best friend.

She was like fire.
Easy to snuff out,
but just as easy to keep burning.

Breathe on her,
and you feed her.
Apply too much force,
and you’ll extinguish her.

Contain her,
and you’ll be fine.
Try to tame her,
and you’ll lose control.

Come closer,
she’ll keep you warm.
But if you come too close,
she will burn you.

She will dazzle you with her life
and her self-preserving nature
but if you ignore her light,
she will destroy everything
before you know it.