I Am Proud Of You

You have changed —
But in the best kind of way.
You are older,
And it is apparent with the things you say.
You have grown,
In ways that I could only hoped to have shown.
I can sense there is something different about you,
And I am not quite sure what to do,
Because the old you is the one I once knew.
But this you is different,
And I can’t quite put a finger on it,
The factor that has made you change,
And finally release yourself from the cage —
The one that you created in order to protect,
And the creation of which I always did regret,
Because it was a reaction to save who you once knew,
While attempting to process what you’ve been through.
I was once there with you,
Kept safe as denial ensued,
Until I was forced to emerge and speak my truth —
The one that I always showed to you.
You were there for my struggle,
And embraced my every rebuttal,
That I possessed in an attempt to discover,
What secrets I kept and the way I often wept,
Over the battle that raged within me,
And the person I was discovering to be.
But now I see the same fight in you,
Showing the truth that you pursue,
Affecting the things that you now do,
And the way that I connect to you.
Because I am no longer your older sister,
I now serve as something different,
And you are more of my equal that I like to admit,
Since that means that you have finally given up on your youth,
And have had to face the inevitable truth,
That we both had to grow up sometime,
And our lives would become less intertwined,
As we moved along in an effort to find,
The women we might prove to be,
In the process of setting our true selves free,
From the binds of the lives we once did lead,
And the grips of that twisted reality.
But now I see that you finally escaped,
The same worries that you always did contemplate,
About being too scared to take on adventure,
And being too young to invest further,
In growing out of the youth that was stolen from you,
And learning to live despite the things you’ve been through,
So now I see a different you,
And I am proud of what you do,
Because your escape from all of this bullshit was long overdue.
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I Remember Facing Death With A Smile

I remember being sick as a child, with my body completely broken and my mind completely helpless.

I recall being on the couch my family owned and only hearing the sounds of my own moans.

I remember sweating profusely and shaking uncontrollably with nothing being able to help me.

I could see my mother’s panic and my father’s look of overwhelming concern as I felt my body continue to burn.

I knew I was only five and did not yet know what it meant to truly be alive,

And I could sense that this could be the end to my existence.

There was a day that I was moved as the sickness only ensued,

To the hospital where my father worked to be placed under the care of his cohorts.

I remember needles in my arms and look of my family’s alarm,

As I lay in a hospital bed and was finally able to rest my tired head,

With the aid of injections and processes that I learned to dread,

As they jabbed needles into my thin arms and were perplexed by what was going wrong,

Since my veins were too thin to see and they were quickly starting to lose me,

As the sickness overcame any strength that I thought I obtained,

During the few years that I lived this life filled with a lack of strife.

But I remember my mother being near and my father restraining his obvious fear,

I recall my brothers in the background and making my sister sick somehow,

I remember that my Kindergarten class paid a visit and that I grew to resist the sickness,

That had attempted to claim my life too soon and have my last surrounding be a hospital room.

I saw the drawing I made of the spot in which I laid,

With tubes in my arms and a smile on my face,

Not knowing the true danger that I had faced.

I remember living another day and not knowing dismay,

Because I recall being given bubbles and stickers for proving to have strength,

I placed more value on the cake that I ate versus the lost weight,

And I remember never considering that this could be the end because my life had barely even began.

I recall being naive and in an ignorant bliss and receiving looks of concern as others refused to give me a kiss,

Because I was infected and sick and did not know what to do to help it,

But it put a distance between me and those I love with knowing it.

Because I remember what it was like to face death and it being a secret that I kept,

Since a five year old should not speak of such things and instead have faith to believe,

That life will go on and prove to be beautiful,

And that this was just a trial I was meant to live through.

But the truth that I keep hidden is that I would have been content leaving this world instead,

Prematurely and way too early to understand the struggle this life can possess,

While I still existed in a state of ignorant bliss and did not know what I might miss,

If I ended life where I lay that day and prevented myself from knowing today.

I Can’t Help You

I can’t help that I hate you and everything that you do.
I can’t help that you are needy and it’s paired with complacency.
I can’t help but obsess over the things you never give a shit about.
I tried to help you succeed and I tried to provide for your needs.
I was understanding and patient and accepted your complacence,
Because I was once was in the same place,
Struggling to find a purpose and wishing someone would help me with this.
But I can’t help that I found the strength and showed to go to any length,
To save myself from me and see what I could possibly be.
I can’t help that you don’t hold the same determination,
To save yourself from this ten year long lamentation.
I can’t help that you don’t see that it is worth the struggle,
And I can’t help you find your rebuttal.
You have to do this on your own,
And I can’t help you find your sense of home.
Because your truth is nothing I can see,
And my hard work will not set you free.
You have to do this on your own,
Because I am tired of being the one who listens to your moans.
Your complaints have become too much,
And I am beginning to lose the sense of love,
That was the driving factor behind my support,
And the reason I first agreed to be your cohort,
For empathy and undeserved sympathy,
Going to lengths to provide for we.
But I can help you no longer,
Because I am proving to not be stronger,
Than this hate that is beginning to resonate,
For the human you have proven to be,
And the lack of thankfulness you have towards me.
You ruined my finances while I continued to give you second chances,
And accepted my shelter while doing nothing to help more,
Because you were always too lazy to see,
That this really isn’t my responsibility.
I can’t help you with a cure to depression,
And I can’t give you more than I have already given.
I can’t help you find a new girlfriend,
And I can’t understand why you have no pride left to defend.
I can’t help you with this struggle any longer,
Because you are bringing me down even farther,
Than I once was when I needed your help,
And I can’t help that this is the truth being felt.
But you can help change this reality,
And you can prove that you are made of more than fallacy,
If you just actually gave a fuck,
And refused to continue blaming this on bad luck.
So now it’s up to you,
I can help you no longer,
Because this is not serving me,
And the person that I worked so hard to be.

Don’t Believe What You Are Told

I was told to ask What not Why,
And that that might help me discover what I am willing to try.
I was told to ponder who I am instead of how I got here,
And that that might bring me a step ever nearer,
To the place where I can ask if this phase might finally pass,
And leave me no more questions to ask.

I was told that I possess the strength,
And that I might be able to begin to negate,
The trials that I see so clearly,
And the fears that continue to plague me.
I was told to keep my head high but not my mind,
And that I was not meant to be the suffering kind,
Destined instead to rise above,
And embrace a feeling of love.

I was told that medication might keep me sane,
And that this might be all in my brain.
I was told that depression is out of my control,
And that it cannot be helped any more,
Because this is something with which I was born.

I was told that this can be a temporary state,
And that darkness is just a bait,
That draws me away from the light I possess,
And convinces me that I need rest.
I was told that laziness is the work of the devil,
And that I would have to rise above it to reach the next level,
Of enlightenment and purpose,
And give myself the opportunity to prove that I am worth more than this.

I was told that I need help,
And that my dark times are not to be felt.
I was told there are solutions for this,
And that there is an easy way to obtain bliss,
With the swallow of a pill and the belief that I am ill.

I was told it is not my fault,
And that I have an excuse for falling apart.
I was told this is because of my genes,
And that I can need to come clean,
To admit that I cannot go back and change that which is fact,
About the person I might be,
And the fears that I constantly see.

I was told there are solutions for my problem,
And that I have no excuse for falling,
So deeply into the depression that is consuming me,
And the habits that continue ruining me,

I told myself that I can do better,
And I resolved to not allow my mood to be affected by the weather.
I told myself I can shake this,
And I stopped myself from remaining complacent,

I said outloud that I am sane,
And that it only proves I am human when I feel pain.

I Am Sick Once Again

How did I get back here?
When I once worked so hard to avoid,
This crushing weight of the empty void,
I have recently become.
Because the only thing I seek is being numb,
And escaping it all,
So that I do not notice my own fall,
And tumble into a stumble,
Of uncertain rebuttal,
Which I thought I would have prepared by now,
And along the lines learned somehow,
To stand a little stronger,
And not allow this to be the only thing I ponder,
Allowing myself to to succumb,
To the darkness that I have learned will come,
When I begin to neglect my own sense of respect,
And do that which I know I will regret,
Such as smoking my day away,
And forgetting what it is like to run and play,
Leaning on my deadly crutches,
And encouraging my side that can be so destructive,
Since this life continues to slip through my desperate clutches,
And I am left wondering how I came to deserve all of this.
What did I do that welcomed all of this hate?
And how do I once again relate,
To the person I recently knew me to be,
Accomplishing things I knew I could always see.
What made me change so quickly?
And how was I so blind to the obvious lead,
I was taking in a life that has become perplexing,
And feels like it is running out of steam,
So early in my young and troubled life,
Because all I continue to recognize is strife,
Versus the opportunity that might be presented to me,
To learn and grow and set a different version of me free.
I know I once believed that the girl I knew me to be,
Was destined to only be a shadow of who I can be,
I once possessed the strength and stubbornness,
To pursue the impossible and allow me to transgress,
The restraints I once accepted as fact,
And my determination to react,
Not allowing myself to be constrained,
By the fact that I might actually be insane.
Because I count insanity as a blessing,
Since it keeps me alive and digressing,
Into the darkest corners and brightest lights,
Seeking a spark that I know I can ignite,
To save the person I have the potential to be,
And not allow this struggle to continue suffocating me.

Finding My Prime Ten Years Behind

I think I would look really good in lingerie.
And I think that you would agree with me today,
In that is something I previously would never say.

I think I would look good with your confidence,
And I think that you have reason to consent,
To encourage me that I have the competence,
To embrace my sexuality instead of repent.

I think I was raised on the side of conservative,
And this is something that only I have encouraged,
To develop and grow and begin to show,
That I am a sexual being and saying that out loud is freeing.

I think that it was no one’s fault,
And that I had to discover this myself,
When the time came to relinquish and exalt,
That which made me so conscience of self.

Maybe it was the whispers of society,
Or maybe it was the doubts from inside of me,
That hid this element from being that I cannot deny,
And the desire to allow my true colors to fly.

I think that it is time though,
For me to be willing to grow,
And no longer be scared of showing you,
The things you make me want to do.

I think that I am ready to learn,
And I think that you are the person from whom I can earn,
The confidence that I can hold when you are being even more absurd,
And the faith that this is worthwhile to explore,
Because in the end you could be someone who I adore,
And I want to do everything I can to prevent you from becoming bored.

A Secret Legacy

Your arrest was the last secret I kept with Dad,
And it wasn’t even a secret of my own to keep at all.
I remember it clearly when he received that call,
And you shared that you were in jail and needed help,
For reasons that you were reluctant to say,
Because you had made a mistake in a permanent way.
But Dad was there to listen,
And I was there to listen to Dad,
And that was the last secret that we had.
We kept it from Mother and I was the only one who knew for at least a day,
That you were continuing to piss your life away.
Because this was not the first time I kept a secret of yours,
And I know it was not the first time for our father either,
So I began to doubt that you were good footsteps in which to follow.
I remember the disappointment in Dad’s eyes,
Yet the calm that he maintained,
In order to not allow Mom to hear of your shame,
Since he protected her first and foremost,
And you had began to test his limits,
Of just how long he could stay calm,
Without exploding with sadness,
For the way you insisted on continuing to mess up,
And the lack of respect you had for us in our effort to clean it up,
So that the rest of the family would not continue seeing you as a disappointment,
And Dad I were left as your only cohorts,
For allowing you to stumble through life,
And still being there to love you despite,
The patience you tested and the fact you were finally arrested,
Because this was not the first time you messed up,
This was just the first time you were caught,
And this was the last time Dad and I worked together under the same thought,
To save you first and handle the aftermath later,
So we joined together to keep this secret,
And Dad made me feel like I was the only person with whom he could speak of it,
Because we both understood the struggle you went through,
And we both saw that it was more than what you were willing to do,
So we both stepped in to assist you.
And although your arrest is not something to be applauded,
It did provide me with a memory I think of fondly,
Of a time when Dad and I had a secret to keep,
And I was the only child to whom he could speak,
Because Dad and I had an understanding,
That we would place nothing before the good of our family.
So thank you for messing up,
Because it was the last time I was able to look up,
To the patient and understanding man that our father was,
And learn from his actions how to foster love,
And forgiveness no matter what the situation,
Practicing patience no matter what the stipulations,
Because you might never be thankful for the things we do,
But that is no reason not to follow through,
Because our father truly loved you,
Despite the things you do.
So I will continue on with his legacy,
And continue to believe,
That you can one day receive,
The same secret that he once shared with me.

I Am Tired Of Complaining

I no longer want to make this about me.
I want to move on and pay tribute to you.
I no longer want to harp on what I went through.
I want to honor your memory.
And I no longer want to see you through the belief,
That your leaving is what truly changed me.
I want to praise your influence and remember fondly the times we had together,
Because I am tired of remembering only the way you severed this tether,
Without a choice or a moment to react,
Leaving me to fade into black.
But darkness is not what you showed me,
And abandoned is not how you left me,
There was so much more that you lead me to believe in —
Like the faith in my ability to dream,
And times spent living supremely,
Because I had the support of your love,
And a chance to create memories to cherish,
Before your time on this earth perished.
I am thankful for those 17 years,
When I had the chance to listen and hear,
The words that you chose to speak,
And the lessons you shared in order to keep,
Encouraging my growth and the adult that I might become,
Since your time with me ran out before adulthood begun.
But I was blessed with a childhood of memories that are fond,
And you were once there to join in on the fun,
That you taught me to always incorporate into my life,
Despite the fact the struggle is rife,
You practiced what you preached,
And provided me with a front row seat,
To the opportunity to be all that I can be,
Because at one time I knew the luxury,
Of your love and time spent with the amazing father I knew you to be.

I Miss You

Why did you have to leave me so soon?
There was so much more that I wanted to do with you,
And there was so much more that I wish I could say was true —
That you took pictures with me when I dressed up for Prom,
And you stopped me from fighting with Mom,
That you had pride in your chest when I crossed the graduation stage,
And that you were happy for me when I chose to turn another page,
That you were there to move me into my first dorm room,
And that you met the people I have learned to love too,
That you accepted my fear that I could mess this all up,
And never had to see me drown my feelings in a cup,
That you were around to meet the men I date,
And there to help me regulate,
That which is too much for me to handle,
And moments that I thoroughly mishandled,
That you were here to listen to this rambling,
And I have you around for ambling,
Through this life that has become so confusing,
To support me in the dreams that I dream of pursuing,
Because it was too soon for your to disappear,
And you left me with so much fear,
That I cannot do this without you here.
But I have proven otherwise and I cannot deny,
That you leaving me is what helped me arrive,
To be the person I am today,
And appreciate what I have to convey,
With an understanding that this life is too short,
And that the ball is in my court,
To do with it what I may,
And learn to live another day,
Without your embrace,
But with all the fears that I need to face,
And know that I possess the strength,
Because you raised me to go to lengths,
Of understanding and growing,
And insist on showing,
That I once had a life that was filled with you,
But I still have the influence that I gained from you.

Dreaming Is Ruined

This morning I don’t know where to focus my brain,
I can’t decide what to write about that might keep me sane,
I keep applying pressure to prove that this might be,
What I doubted I would ever see become reality.
I am working on my practice and I plan to practice what I speak,
Because this life is too large of a secret to keep buried,
In the back of my mind and steeped in the denial of my time,
A generation lost to the influence of persistence,
That logic can be met with resistance,
And a mind that is open to other possibilities,
Such as being lazy and still seeking prestige.
We tend to believe that YouTube can take us where we want to be,
And Facebook can tell us in what to believe,
Instagram is the only food we need,
And Twitter will never lead to deceit,
Because the internet is where we’ve learned to set our minds free.
We stopped living and we started pretending,
That we could make up the lives we wished we were spending,
In the fantasy world of all that is created by humans,
One that should be debated for leading us astray,
Yet praised for getting us to where we are today.
We’ve used it to our advantage,
And I have joined in with the rest of them,
Trusting the ramblings of this pen,
Over conversations with another on who I can depend,
I’ve disappeared behind the mask of anonymous,
And I’ve encouraged my dark complexes,
In hopes that I might create something to which others can relate,
As I post this without a claim that these are the words that drive me insane,
Wishing that others might find value in my thoughts,
And hoping that this will amount to more than another loss,
Of the sense of who I might be meant to be,
Because the options are all so overwhelming to perceive,
And I cannot even begin to receive all that I have the possibility to be.
Dreaming has been ruined and imagination is less pursued,
Because there is something else that is being used,
In this easy exposure to an unfamiliar world,
Without personal introductions to what is overheard,
Thoughts are construed and stereotypes are fed,
Leading us to believe in thoughts of our own instead,
Refusing to listen to the value that could be laid before us,
And misleading any sense of trust,
We might have for our fellow humans and the things they pursue,
Because unless it is posted to the internet it is assumed to not be true.
So here is the truth I know and my hope that I one day might grow,
Past this complex of constant unrest,
And find a truth I can trust in instead,
One that is real and has the ability to heal,
Versus thought after thought that there is always more than what I’ve already got.