Progression

I sit in silence

in a house that's not mine

and listen to the knocking

of my ghosts who followed me here

in the next room

only my walls up to protect me

from how I feel when they're around

I see them in the reflection

of every mirror and screen

hiding in every closet and dark room

I feel them, invisible but tense

thought I lost them when I left

the house that haunts me still

when I was young and afraid

in my room, in the shadows

and my pain made them appear

every night when I stared at the ceiling

and listened for any hint of what

I didn't want to be there.

Love confused with hate

sadness received with anger

emotion rebutted with arrogance

hope crushed with words that hurt more

than being pulled apart limb by limb

"I love you" does not mean "I own you"

"I hate you" does not go away

it takes tenfold kindness

and can't be undone

even by years

I don't forgive because it'd okay

but for myself

to get over the mountains

held over me

to crush and choke me

and make me breathe through

the straw that is hope

taking even longer to drown

than I ever thought.

I've never had someone

without them having a grip

holding me too tight

my bruises spread

but no one sees them

the scars that I've been left with

they build up

brick by brick

until I have the highest walls

to protect myself

because no one else can do it

everyone tries to tear them down

like I'm not already broken

an open book with a fucked up spine

and missing pages

my words don't make sense to

those who have always been

handled with care

they try, but it's not fair to anyone

my walls just end up collapsing

and my words are never understood

and I keep ripping myself apart

brick by brick

and page by page.

I don't want to be here or there

but anywhere else gives me hope

that one day I will be

in a home with light

and love and loyalty

with no fear or suffering

not wanting to not wake up

in the morning

okay with just being

and no longer wishing I was

"in a better place"

had a brand new mindset

but living it

satisfied with all I've done but

still reaching for more

both hands in the jar

not to be denied or shamed

but to be lifted up and freed

to do what I am meant to

to realize purpose and peace.