I am surrounded by mountains

but I am unable to peel myself

off this green couch

to clime one and scream

at the top of my lungs

"I made it, I made it, I made it,"

I climbed to get here,

to this couch.

I climbed and walked and I ran

and I crawled.

I have forgiven and grown flowers in the dirt

that the deserving and entitled,

drug on my heart with filthy shoes.

I have moved mountains,

for you

and for us

and for anybody who has shown me

the slightest bit of kindness

on the days I was hot and thirsty

and my cup had run empty.

Oh, how I've laughed,

getting to this green couch;

although I can't remember how it felt,

I remember the sound

and how it felt to fall to the ground

in a way that did not feel

as though the sky was my ceiling

and the walls were caving in.

The mountains make me feel small,

yet today,

I am the elephant in the room.

I am the mountain, the hurdle,

the one in the way.

I am the weight on his shoulders,

he begs to put down so he may continue on.

I feel the heaviness in me,

the too boldness in me,

I feel the strain carrying me costs;

I have felt it in everyone,

my whole life.

I am too much. I feel too much.

I ask for too much

for who I am and what I have to offer.

Who do I think I am?

I shed and bled and lived and lost

so many versions of me,

to get to this green couch.

I prayed for green and here I am,

paralyzed and paranoid,

the sky is my ceiling

and I'll be on the ground soon.

The mountain is crumbling,

victory is his.

Victory belongs to everyone

who has grown tired of my great faith

that everything always works out for me.

Maybe they were right.

Maybe it doesn't.

The mountain is crumbling

and all of my flowers are dying

and all I can do is lay here

on this green couch and watch.

This is my bed.

I made it, I made it,

I made it.

the hole in my heart

took over my lungs last night

this morning it took my legs

and my arms and i only found comfort

on your side of the bed.

last night i would have told you

your side of the bed

is what fed the hole in my chest.

the emptiness feeds off more emptiness.

i swear by the end of this

its going to swallow me whole.

you cannot marry me

you cannot marry me.

you are there

and i'm here

farther away than the maps will weap.

you'll say you didn't mean it

you'll say that you did

you cannot marry me.

you cannot marry me.

the hole in my heart

took over my voice

and it took over my eyes

so i could not see

i could not cry

i could not scream.

the hole in my heart

is all too familiar,

we tend to meet on the bathroom floor

with straw and plate i stole from goodwill.

here i am again

on the bathroom floor

but my god i am trying not to drop to my knees.

our child is in the bath

and he is laughing and he's splashing

but i will be damned

if he ever gets wet from my storm.

the hole in my heart

will never touch his clean hands.

you cannot marry me

and i cannot go where you will go next

did you outgrow me?

did i dig the hole first?

is your whole entire world closing in on you too?

did i trick you

into thinking i was

love

and light

and all things kind

from the time i wake up

until i close my eyes at night

did you think

i was even love and light

in my sleep?

i am love and light

but its the love

that gave you a god complex

and drug problems

and its the light from the bic

that barely works

to light the bowl

that barely works

and its the light in the kitchen

that also barely works,

that you forgot to turn off

before you fell to your knees

in front of a plate of shitty

cocaine that was free

because you were pretty

and they said you were

like love

and like light.

i dont like to sleep.

the terrors i have

of the people ive lost

and the people ive wronged

remind me how much

walking the roads less traveled by

i am forced to do

because of all the bridges ive burned

and for all the passenger seats

i do not feel welcome sitting in.

'my god, you've changed'

oh thank god

i have tried to.

ive begged the stars

and the universe

and the god i dont belive in

thank god i am not that girl

who climbed so high on top of the horse

she swore she would never have

that she fell to rock bottom

when the drugs wore off

and she was alone.

I've learned to enjoy

the solitude-

my own company

its the one person

that never asks what is wrong

she just knows

when my heart is in my stomach

and shes the only one

who tells me to breathe in through my nose

and out of my mouth.

shes the only one who's told me

that i am a good mom.

that i am a good wife.

that i am a good friend.

she knows i need that.

she knows the parts of me

that have not quite healed yet

needs to know it wasnt her fault.

alot was my fault.

and i was love and light

until i wasnt.

the only argument

i have with my own comapany now

is do we risk being it again.

I am on the moon;

I feel weightless and free

and like my aura burns so bright

that you can almost

see right through me.

I am yours and you are mine

and thats all I have ever wanted.

But

you still see right through me.

I’ll snap in half

before I let anybody

see that side of me again.

I promise you

I will snap before anybody

sees me break.

“hey, how are you?”

he asked

leaving the room

before I could answer.

i probably would have

lied anyways.

my body failed again

and if it wasn’t for my first born,

i think i would stop failing

all together

and let my body rest

in the dirt

with the rest of the death

it has created.

I am in a staring contest

with this dark rum

and I think

I’m winning.