Words from an Insomniac still trying to find her way

Posts tagged “love

I’m not sleeping/not breathing anymore

The lights are off. I am alone…at least I feel alone. This air is cold, this night; even colder. I used to dream of nights like this,
to keep me sane, to keep me going. Now they only seem to weaken my bones and my spirit. I have checked out once again. I thought I had overcome this drastic measure years ago, and yet here I am; awakened by its prisoned walls and unwelcome nights. I took a step into the hallway, thinking I was making the right choice. Yet here I am in shambles and torn to pieces. This is the constant mirror I look into forever more.

     I stood before them; naked and ashamed. Ashamed of who I had grown into and who I was meant to be. I left my earphones in and the soundtrack to my existence on so I could block all unnecessary accusations from my hearing. It is better this way; to imagine the worst and yet never hear it. I let these images haunt my dreams; for at least I can control these if I need to. I looked straight into the face of the one I put my trust in; the one I gave my blood and life to. The only one to look away at the table of judgment and ignorance. That’s right; they are ignorant in my eyes. My mother, my lovers before me who took me for granted, and now this. What did I expect; a likely story with a usual ending? May I be let off this stand and led away to darker corners and endless hallways of strays. I only write what I think of and what I dream. The judge and jury of my dreams is what’s killing me.

     Today I spent an eternity thinking of what was and where I should’ve been instead of drowning in my misery. I left the chains back in the old days and yet they still seem to follow me. Give me drink, give me peace, just make the bleeding stop. I only saved enough for one day. I must’ve confused today with forever. How could I have been so delusional? The time is wrong, the weather is off and I am on the wrong dock; looking for the right escape. I never pleaded to anything I wasn’t guilty of. I only lacked the intelligence when it came to emotions. I should’ve been cold; distant and greedy like all the others. I should’ve stayed at home and never listened to those movies. I should’ve kept my mouth shut and my eyes open. I should’ve known the future and stayed far away in the past. But I am just a human; like all the others, thinking there’s always a way out of the extreme. I forgot to read the instructions when I didn’t grasp the meaning. Here comes the judge and jury of my dreams.

     I stare into this haunted house; full of skeletons, full of dark thoughts. I should’ve ran the other way, but curiosity got the better of me. I stayed for the encore and left writhing in pain. I just couldn’t help myself. I lIke things this way. Dark and terrifying, wrong, twisted and heart wrenching when you least expect it. I was into it just like everyone else. But like everyone else, I never saw the ending. There’s no exit sign and I have to go all the way through. It’s my fault I catered to the uninhabited, the misfits who walk away without a care. Where is the end?

     I stood on the cliff, ready to fall. I tried very hard but hadn’t the gall. To pick up my feet and let it all go, so I did the next best thing by taking it slow. Rubbing back and forth till nothing was left, the ache in my wrist no longer bereft, of the pain it endured as I clung to the stone, that clung to the threads of my veins and the bone. It was easier to get closer than ever before, without you having to look on, without you having to beg for more. Let’s face it, this was the only way, just play my soundtrack every step of the way. Louder than the waves that crash over me, louder than the screams of those who left before me. Let it play on when I’m cold as the night, when I’m dreaming and sleeping with no end in sight. Please; do this for me.

     That was the worst place I’ve ever stepped into. May those souls be at peace. Whoever thought that reality would get to me? It wasn’t free, it wasn’t enough to leave me thinking. I was left without anything to cling to in the end. I stand; naked and ashamed, but never the way you think. I have to walk away and not say a thing. I have to let go like a good girl and never think again.

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In the Background is Where I Learn to Live, at the Forefront is where I Learn to Give.

IMG_2187Dear You,

Welcome to me…to this lifetime of weak metaphoric bones and 267 days of teary eyes. I warned you from the beginning, didn’t I? I brought forth my promise of commitment with my long list of conditions. Conditions such as aching for the baby sister who only had four hours of “why me?”, or the younger brother who thought killing himself was the better side to see. Conditions such as my loneliness which creeps in the night, and my fear of never waking up again once I turn out the light.  You haven’t forgotten the best part, have you? You know, the part where the depths of my melancholy wash over me like tsunamis in the sky. This is me…this is we…and we haven’t had the promising chance to even try. In this life of mine, I chose to drift towards your life preserve, thinking you were the one who was going to save me. Some days I think I’m still at sea, dog paddling my way through life, with you always close by.

I remember the first time you took hold of my hand when a fresh coat of grief washed upon me, and I let you in, without a moment’s hesitation. Was I being selfish, allowing you to see the real mirror image of my soul, my existence? Should I have let you stay away, without any explanation, any “Dear John” letter? You have lost several years that you’ll never get back. I can’t promise that you’ll be able to hang on to any more in the future. In the end, all I’ll have to give is the “I tried” line.  In the end that is all it will ever be; a failed try. But know, I did try.

When I look at your silent peace, your heaven-sent release, if only in your sleep, I am happy for you. I think it is here, in my absence, that you truly find happiness. In the deep corners of your subconscious you are alive, ready to take on the reality of what could’ve been. It is in your inner solitude that I am most jealous. How can one be jealous of something that could never be reached? Be a part of? But it’s there, poking it’s angry saddened little head through the locked door of your mind. You lay there, angelic and weightless, not thinking of a thing. This is where the metaphoric hamster in your brain takes a breather, where the ocean meets dry land. You are calm and care-free. And I am jealous of everything I’ve just seen.

I live in a world where my hamster never sleeps, where fear loves to creep and the thought of drifting away and never returning becomes the welcome mat of anxiety at my minds’ front door.  I never chose what was behind curtain number four. I only wanted #1 because it’s more than likely better odds. Who stole my life from me? Who wished eternal tears and hard twisting heart rhythms to lay at my feet? I’ve landed the bonus where I even cry in my sleep. Who wished this for me? How I long for the nights of sweet vivid dreams brought on by exhaustion of long hours counting sheep.

Regardless of the outcome, this is the reality. And even in my tantrums, I have learned to accept the hand dealt to me. I gave up on self-pity and self-destruction, and leaned more towards the spontaneous crying and itchy blanket called loneliness. This is me…this is we; the mirror looking back at the mess which becomes me. Nowadays, I tend to cry when you aren’t around. When the music is deep and therapeutic, when the movie strangles my heart with both hands; this is my relief. Do you get it? I’m giving you a break. I’m letting you off the hook, here’s a freebie on me. This is one thing you’ll never understand…that this me, it is not you. You can have the rest; like my playfulness and crazy nonsense. You get the loving ways and the part of my heart that beats for you. I’ve swallowed the key to the other room. Don’t ask for it back.

I didn’t grasp it the first time, you know, the uncomfortable feeling of what to do when I couldn’t stop crying and feeling so bleak. But you’re better off, and I know that now. This is something I must deal with without the company of awkward silences and uncomfortable movements. The darkness does eventually end, and the new sunrise becomes a welcome home sign; even if short-lived. I’m comfortable in this accepting skin. I take the good without taking it for granted while I take the bad at face value. 

I live in the numbness of a never-ending dream where nothing pleasant happens in the end. I wait excitedly for the surprise gift of a wonderful day, whether in a song or the way you look at me, and I relish in the love that gives me a temporary fix. You have always been my drug of choice. The darkened clouds and bitter shadows; they will continue to live, just now I keep them in the deeper end. I’ve wanted you and all that you freely possess . My baggage was clear and will be till the end. I’ve wanted you and not the choice to keep on running. I just can’t get rid of the closet filled with sorrow and disappointing sentiment. Please remember to read your faithful contract. Look for the signature at the dotted line. Remember these images when it’s time for me to unravel all of my despair with the lights turned off and the music keeping the poison at bay. Remember there will always be better days. 

love,

~me~


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This is how I say I love you

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Inherit all that has been passed down

Colours and Words
They represent all who surround me
Even in death.
They represent the day I am reborn into
And the night closing in.
I thank the Creator and Mother Earth,
Comforted by their acceptance.
I thank ancestors who once lived
With dreams and sacrifice,
And I live through them.
It is because of their struggle
I see colours in the living,
Wrapping you all
In my love
Speaking words to you all
Without hindrance.
I’ve ceased being ashamed
And living up to other’s expectations
Of me.
*Para las mujeres hermosas de mi familia (for the beautiful women in my family); mi abuelitas and their sewing talents, my great-grandmother and her beautiful crocheting; I bleed their blood, dream their dreams, and create like they created. With a thankful heart for a Creator who blessed me with so much, this is my way of paying respects to mi familia.
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Why can’t love be enough in this world?

Why can’t love be enough?

Why can’t it be the strength

when I’ve no life left to fight,

when words are like daggers

piercing all that is fragile and beautiful

in this life?

Why can’t love be enough?

 

Why can’t love plunge through

the hardness that surrounds the heart,

the anger a speech confesses

the hurt that swallow me up

when just yesterday you missed me so much,

and love was on your tongue.

How quickly the page turns.

Why is love never enough?

 

Why is love never enough?

why can’t it stop the bleeding,

the restless nights of endless thinking

about a future that looked so promising

Love promised me that much

Why can’t love be the savior

the solution in these trying times?

Isn’t love important to you?

Aren’t I important to you?

 

Why can’t love be enough?

the answer to your demons

the calm to your undefeated storm,

the serenity to your world views

I loved the moment I no longer felt alone

it was worth the wait.

Why can’t that be enough

Love.

 

What is the need behind the pain we inflict on one another, on ourselves?

Isn’t it enough that we are alive, that we are in love,

surrounded by the love of others?

We are somebody so why have we let others let us believe otherwise?

In that moment of darkness we have forgotten our purpose,

our meaning, our reason for breathing. Pain wasn’t part of this beautiful plan.

Not for you, not for me, not for anyone.

 

 

 


I Never Wrote that Suicide Note

– on a train leaving Albuquerque, NM

October, 2006

 

 

I leave behind a life

that never belonged to me,

I have tried, my whole life

to make things seem right.

I am left sitting on a train,

towards someone else’s home.

Empty handed,

wounded and a failure,

and in the middle of this silent war,

I pray my brother has found more

than he ever had in this life time.

 

I have been on this train 

for an hour or more,

and the release 

of letting him go

is just as slow.

All around me

lay dark threatening clouds,

I pray that they are swift 

at swallowing me whole.

Come rain! Come!

I take my tattered, broken wings

bury them under 

an old sturdy tree.

Where is that new life

I’ve always wanted for me?

 

Today I continue to fight

the war that won’t let go of me.

 

Today, I leave you father

graced in all my love,

waiting for your acceptance,

I can no longer keep trying

to make you want me around.

I have tried to please you 

from the moment I could walk,

I can’t compete with a life

we have both lost.

 

But I stop trying today.

 

Instead,

the rain will take my place,

the clouds will be

my suffocating embrace.

My love will forever reside

in lost dreams,

because there is no way

to make it easier on you 

or on me.

This will be my last trip for some time.

Don’t forget, 

my love will still surround you,

because love is worth everything,

even in between.

 

And this is where I leave you

mother,

with every ounce of hope

I’ve braved.

There’s no looking back 

at my trail of maybes and patience

that flood your window frames.

I never wanted to be the mother,

I never wanted to leave things

this way,

but you will never change,

and I will no longer wait.

 

My heart was broken, 

the day I made you walk away,

since then

life has never been the same.

But I cease all hurting today.

Today,

the sun will take its place.

Today,

the beauty of all the Creator creates

will fill the void

you can’t seem to replace.

There is no other way,

so this will be the last time

I have as much faith.

Don’t forget,

love is all I ever have for you,

and prayers will never cease,

jut because you’ve chosen to.

 

Eleven more hours,

till I reach someone else’s home,

what happens from there 

terrifies me so,

but anything has to be better

then this solitary road…

 

Welcome (home), Suzanna, welcome home

 


Caramelo by Sandra Cisneros

Caramelo…just like the sweet chewy candy, or the soft warm color of skin, this story is also appealing

in every way, just like visits by Tías and mothers, grandmothers and daughters, gossiping and

catching up over café con leche. While we wicked little children listen silently, in the background,

unknowingly receiving a history lesson unfolding before us. It is beautifully told in every way a 

story can be told.                                                                                       

Caramelo is the saddest love story you’ll ever read. A love story built on sacrifice, on culture, and felt  

from the lives of the women who share their struggles in this book. Sandra Cisneros has once again

proven how delicate and eruptive her words can be while describing the strong jealousy of love or

the great pains of childbirth.  She has brought us a bit closer into her life with her moving and

melodic words that contain such amazing and lost history to so many of us who have grown up in the

U.S.A.  It is bountiful, full of landscapes and people who once lived before us, of war and starvation,

as love ties itself to each and every moment with a shredded ribbon.

This is a story I will be sure to pick up and read again, a story I will be sure to share with the younger

females in my familia, as well as anyone interested after reading this review, along the way.  It is a

brilliant, romantically melancholy in every word, book that reads like a never-ending song you can’t

let go of.  ***** 5 stars for Ms. Cisneros and her wonderful way of writing!