Hypocrisy

Every once in a while, something happens to slap me in the face and remind me, "Hey, wake up! You aren't the only one who struggles with darkness!" In this case, it was a friend telling me of her struggle. So, ironically (because my poetry is, almost without exception, very dark and depressing), I wrote her an encouraging poem. The hypocrisy is because the poem is a lie: a list of things to "brighten her day" that don't really matter in the end... peaches, the beach, movies... they make no difference in MY darkness. Perhaps they will in hers.

Puppies and unicorns

Frolicked in the sun

And pandas played

Under the rainbow

Everything was bright and happy

And no tears fell there

No clouds to block the sunshine

It was always spring, and fair

The idyllic scene brought a smile

And a laugh to my lips

I was still laughing when I awoke

For only a dream it was

And I thought to myself,

"Life isn't puppies and unicorns

Not really pandas and rainbows.

But even so, life is not dark.

"I don't have a puppy

To bring me a smile

But a letter from a friend

Will do just as well."

So I looked around me

For things that are bright

And I found so many

I hardly know where to start.

A peach freshly bitten

With juice down my chin

The waves on the beach

And diving right in

The clouds block the sunshine

But when rays peek through

That's a sigh to enrapture

And cherish forever too

Watching a funny movie

Or one beloved and timeworn

Laughing with friends or alone

Or seeing a new day born

Making a new work of beauty

By hand or with Photoshop

The list could go on forever

But I think here, for now, I'll stop.

I wrote this poem for you, my friend

But I think I needed it too

I wrote it to be sunlight

And it shines for me as for you

So remember I love you

Love, smile, laugh, pray

I hope I did just a little

To bring light to your day

Failure or Success?

I can't help viewing yesterday as both failure and success. It is failure, because I threw away 21 weeks of fighting. And yet I can't help seeing it as success. I cannot help but see that today has been much better than yesterday, in some ways. I cannot help but see that the darkness is less consuming today. I desire to cut more, but the darkness is not as deep. I cannot help but see that 21 weeks of fighting and struggling and trying to trust God have not made the darkness lessen as much as five red lines on my arm have.

So was it failure or success? And if you say failure, whose failure was it? Mine, or the darkness? Whose success? Can you say either? Failure provided joy that has been missing for months. Success brought pain to my beloved. Failure lifted the darkness. Success brought more shame. Failure brought peace, at least for a bit. Success delivered more conflict.

So what was it? Failure, or success?

Crimson Regret

I'm hungry, for what? For the pain

I'm thirsting for the bloodflow again

So much has changed, but not this

Unquenched desire for razor's sweet kiss

Laugh and smile, not real but not fake

Release relinquished for true love's sake

If I turn, turn to God and his cross

Will he repay me for knifeblade's loss?

Darkness deepens, clouds my mind

Pain reaches out for pain in kind

Scars stand out, remembrance and desire

Awaiting the return of bloodsoaked fire

Fear remains, but I have nothing left to say

Abide here with me and await the break of Day.

Tears

I close my eyes, but no rest comes, only tears. I do not know why I cry, only that the tears will not stop. They are not the phantom tears of joy, but those of unutterable sorrow. Sorrow...and pain. Sorrow for what, I know not. I know not what hurts, only that it does.

Darkness I have felt before, and pain, but nothing like this. Never before have I felt this unending sadness with no origin. Maybe it is all or in part pregnancy hormones. With my background, it is hard to tell. Something tells me it is not, but then, something also tells me to reach for the blade in my pocket. I can trust neither mind nor emotions.

Let me try a metaphor. I am a bottomless, empty well. Sorrow and pain rush in, but make no impression on the emptiness, nor does the love of my lover. And so I feel both completely empty of any emotion, while at the same time full of sadness and hurt.

So the tears fall unchecked, and my mind draws ever closer to...what? Darkness? Blades? Blood? Emptiness.