there once was

it's past midnight but i lie in full consciousness listening to the different sounds communicate with each other. i feel, as if i were in control, reluctant to step even half a foot into monday for the prospect of what the days ahead will bring seems overwhelmingly monstrous — more weariness, more trials, apparitions of you in different forms & mediums. today (or yesterday) was hard fighting a constant, ceaseless battle between myself & a hundred other variations of me, but i thank God for people like denise, matthew & rachel who would actually ache or even cry with you as you hurt
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this is the thing about pain, i guess, it is not just crying or sadness; it is feeling as though a monster tried to pry open & yank its way through the hollows of your chest then decided that it was too much work, so it hurls a fist right in the middle. the bullseye. to the most visceral parts of a heart where it is raw & bloody with vulnerability, hurt, grief, longing, sorrow. it feels like being consumed by screaming silences & blinding darkness. it feels like being heavily juxtaposed against the wild lilies dancing & nodding their feathered heads in spring winds. it feels like everything that never made sense once, now seems perfectly sensible to you

i'm exhausted & hanging limp from the threads that pull fragments of the world together to form something comprehensible