preaching to the choir.

how to stay strong.

If you looked into my heart, amongst the blood, you would see the tears.

These tears don't ever find their way to my eyes, and they can't seem to run down my cheeks like the rivers I skipped rocks in as a child. 

And like a practiced rhythm, my heart still beats. 

So please, be like every other 'elder' in my life, and tell me how I can be strong. 

By now, it must be true. 

So excuse me as I don't tell you how to be strong, 

I will just defer you to _________ and _________.

------------------

On Thursday, my beanie came apart, split at the top.

Friday, so did my mind. As the thread came apart one thread at a time, so did my sanity. 

Once my sanity hit the floor, so did my heart.

The rhythm stopped, the melody ceased.
And maybe I'm just preaching to the choir,
but y'all suck.

No, I'm sorry.
I have to see you all again tomorrow, so let me try again.
Nah y'all still suck.
And even though the leaves are changing hues, and even though my lawn is deceased, I'm losing it.
No matter how many songs I write trying to regain just a small portion of my consciousness, with every note I procure, I lose myself further.

-

I'm sorry, I'm supposed to tell you how to stay strong.
I just can't keep my eyes open, I just can't keep cutting away at the things that make me weak.

So save your scissors.

But here we go, here's what I've got:
If you wanna be strong,
you gotta cry a bit, just so that you know that you're actually alive still;
you gotta fall a few times, and scuff up your pale knees;
you gotta sit through the constant berating of your choices;
you gotta just spend one day laying exposed in the rain;
you gotta be cold, just once;
Now take all of that, and write it all down.
As the ink seeps into the paper,
                             .
(well that last part is up to you)