Angels

I feel like I can fly this time. Like if I were to jump, that I'd be able to overcome my fear of heights for you. 

I feel like if I were to close my eyes, I would know where I was, because I was with you. 

I feel like my psychological light has been turned back to the on position with you.

I feel like I could perform open heart surgery on myself when I'm with you. 

I feel like If I were to reach out into space and grab a star, it would grab me back, and tell me that I'm alright with you. 

I feel like if I were to watch the moon shoot across the sky with you, the fact that the sun is following closely behind wouldn't even matter. 

I feel like I can look at your eyes without even wanting to look back with you. 

My heart is beating in a different way, a way that seems to be more regular than it ever was. A beat with a steady tempo, and a sense of direction and rhythm. 

I feel like my mind and my heart are finally holding hands with you. 

I feel like I have hope again. 

Change me.

What is wrong with me? Why is this war being waged inside my head, covering the sands of the deserts in my mind with the blood of expired feelings and dried up hopes for the future? 

When will this war be done? Because I have been waving my white flag for years now, and the enemy inside is not taking prisoners. 

I always think I find someone new, and my overthinking mind just examines it from every angle until it's no longer of importance to me. 

I want to find the end of this hallway, and open the doors to a new life, and a new me, one that isn't constantly changing, constantly switching, emotionally draining, and is a roller-coaster designed for someone with less experience with something so crazy. I'm not sure if I could be a good person without the help of a sudden change of heart. 

I'm not going to be able to do what I want to. I'm not going to be able to be in love. 

Thin air is harder to breathe

Climbing to the top of a mountain is worth nothing if the air is too thin for you to even fill your lungs with the crisp fall air. When you climb a mountain and rappel it too fast to even take in the view, what's the point of climbing? 

When you drive to the canyon to look at the trees, why do you look at a trail of dirt on your way up? 

What would happen if we took the time to scream our lungs off the edge of the mountain as we fling our hearts down the rocky hill we scaled to the top, with our hands numb and skin cold? 

What would happen if I fell? 

What would happen if we fell? 

I'm broken, and I have no idea how to fix it.

The spaces between my fingers

Are full of my hair as I try desperately not to rip it out. The seal between my lips is like a barrier of glass, keeping the tiger from eating the child. The thoughts behind my skull are dying to slip out through the cracks and run through my mouth. I'm broken. And I never came with a manual. None of us did.