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the silence almost too heavy for my woozy body.

outside, kissing a cigarette, "goodnight",

i scuffled through the neighborhood. it was so quiet.

once i stopped moving, stopped thinking, stopped feeling...

i noticed the loudest noise.

climbing through my ears, rupturing the drums.

the creeking of my bones stopped for just a moment.

a lapse in times

where nothing seemed as it was.

i was nothing, but a speck of dust

floating. i looked up at the stars

and saw a thousand years of sisters

reaching down for me. all the fears

seemed so small. a numbing bliss.

smoke dripped from my mouth

and i heard one of them snicker,

"just a child to this earth

and already planning the great escape."

and yes, i know

the slowest form of suicide resides in each stick.

when will i stop? is it the weather

that has warped my heart so?

the bitterness clinging to flesh.

each shivering bump gives way to this despondency.

once so jagged and scattered,

my new exterior scarred and healing.

if you can even call this recovery.

oh, god, do you see me?

may you happen to glance at this retched soul

and see the vacancy in my gaze.

i've not a thing for you but this shell.

the pitiful excuse of a human being.

may you guide me through the years

and help me dry these tears.

i pray each night, you'll bring me home

for i have learned that i am no one's hero, 

not even my own.