ugly side

i have seen your ugly side. i have watched you punch holes through the boards and the beds and the places i lay my head. i have watched you drown things that didn't even belong to you. i have held my breath for days on end.

you took things from me that i didn't even know i had to give. you broke things in me that i didn't even know could break.

i have spent nights pacing the halls waiting for you to take it back. i made myself small. i have closed my eyes and opened them again and again waiting to see something else but its always the same old thing again and again.

you gone. me here.

the sound of a gun and your head.

i promised things to myself before. i will make those promises again.

you know the ones.

don't live in fear. don't let it control you. it's not your fault. it will get better.

those mantras that i want to believe. that i want to live. that i almost felt but there is always something. and there always will be.

that's just the things isn't it. if its not your dysfunction, it is mine. and i never realized until very very recently how lucky i have been my whole life to have this family that i have and not yours. and maybe i don't have my health but i have my will and bygod it's stronger than alot of what they have got.

i have seen your ugly side. and i have mine. and i will sit in this quiet place for the rest of our time. i didn't want you to leave. i didn't mean to let you be anything but fine/mine.

these days

my cousin had an accident and is in the icu right now with a subdural hematoma and skull fracture. and by accident i mean he fell somehow and hit is head bad. he doesn't actually remember. we don't really know.

and we have been waiting to hear anything for too long and i just want to know.

and isn't that funny how seven years ago next friday i ended up in icu after my own fall.

it's hard to know what to be afraid of when its the stupid things like walking into your bathroom after work that nearly get you killed.

things i had

there was white light and floating on your back and sunsplashes and freckled noses and whispers that said things like 'hold my hand' and there was full speed ahead and not even caring about the stones we left unturned because there was peace in the motion there was promise in the healing there was serenity now and.

and i woke up to the first frost and this bright fall sun and i realized that i have surpassed the part of recovery where things can only get better.

things are starting to get worse.

this summer: my stomach.
this fall: my leg.

and it knocks the wind out of me just the slightest bit.

it just that this part never even dawned on me.