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i wanted to wake up and love that the sun could shine like that, to stare into the snow and let it fill me because the white is so much better than what i found in my head. i wanted to wake up and tell you that i was okay and to really mean that i did. i couldn't write here, for a while, everything hurt, and this white box, the one i am typing into right now, it was too empty, too small, and it scared me.

maybe if i could care less that you all exist, and if i could feel less than i do, it wouldn't matter that some of you are just mean spirited. i do care, though, and i do feel, too much sometimes. i don't need meaningless things and i don't need to always feel that everyone, or at least, most people, like what i write.. but i would like to feel welcome here, always. it does mean a lot to me. a lot of you mean a lot to me, and perhaps it is a bit peculiar that i've only known most of you through text but this is my head, here, this is one giant collective head. there are heads here that don't even know they are here.

there has been little sleep lately, and waking into horrible darkness and such intensity in a too small space that it took much just to hold on at all, sometimes. i don't even like to talk about it so much just yet, i don't know how far away i am from it.

tonight, the stars are too bright and too clear and the universe is swirling too fast and too slow. tonight, i love that i am here. it seems more necessary than i can express to say that, to let it slide out of my head and fall into words, that i am most pleased to exist.. i only wish that everything wasn't so harsh out here, after being inside such darkness for far too long.
I will change the lighting in my bedroom, I will remove the bulbs and replace them with lower wattage, I will paint the walls a dark dark color and I will remember to wear only black.

This is not mourning because there is nothing to mourn, this is not celebration because what is the joy in lying to ourselves? This is self-preservation, this is softening a glaring truth and muting it with dark, sensible lies, this is molding the story so I can live with it.

I stepped out yesterday, smack dab into a bright sun and white snow, dazzling in intensity. That is when I got sharp pangs of misgiving and regrets, that is when my carefully constructed wall of logic crumbled like so many words, that is why I am going to retreat and create us a darker corner.

I will be able to lie to myself there, I will say it is still night and it is still okay to be here with you. I will say it is getting late and we must go to sleep, I will be able to pretend we have lost nothing but time and we can make up for it with words and drapes and darker walls.

And it's your light.

All your light...blinding holy halogen-paint that clings to everything you do and say. I'm jealous.
You're so happy, every second of every minute of every day. Why can't I have that? That's all I want. The light doesn't touch me gently because I am not part of it. You are, though.

Sometimes I can join the sun and stars, for just a moment - when I'm in your arms, breath matching yours, hearts trying desperately to pulse in rhythm with each other. But then I remember that I am a temporary dancer in the waltz of fireflys, and I retreat to my shadowscape, to wait for you.
I despise the Sun; I have grown up on the idea that I would burn if I left the comfortable shelter of my darkness. In a cloak of night I am safe, untouchable. Now you would aid my enemy in penetrating the protective walls hardened by my childhood.

I am content to be alone, to keep myself to myself, and I don't need you to dissect my mind. Would you open these wounds so that my soul could bleed onto you? I should caution you that it will stain your pretty dress. But if I have no soul, no one can take it from me.

I'll never have to go outside.

i touch something beautiful
the fragile dance froze
it fears my approach, it knows
blind, i impose my weight, my rule
behind, it's broken, touched by a fool

i touch someone beautiful
her brilliance shone
she, so giving, calls hers my own
i bask in the light, the gifts to mend
then turn my back, and turn black again

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