Poems Encrusted with History

Breath

Breathe

But how am I supposed to do such a thing
when you crush me under the weight of your words?
When all I ever wanted was to be free,
But how can a clip-winged bird ever be more than caged?
All I wanted was to be able to fly.

The young naive girl who was once a part of me;
she was grafted from a different sort of bird,
crafted from one-part kindness and two-parts innocence.
She was never meant to fly into darkness
but it was there that she crash landed.

She was torn out of the blue by the king of the skies,
he held her down with the weight of her own incompetence.
He's a monster everyone meets but no one wants to acknowledge,
but how can you ignore being crushed?

So, she decided that she would find another way to traverse the sky,
She'd fly on steel wings that couldn't be clipped.
10/9/16

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This is the more polished version of the poem that is next which came out more as a rant from a day where I was bomb ready to blow and full of an assortment of emotions. There are some lines that are similar but for the most part I cut it back a lot. The second one is a lot more personal while the first is more distant as it isn't quite clear who I'm talking too, it becomes apparent in the second version. In the second version I also didn't bother to keep the lines about the same length because, well, I was full of emotions and just didn't care.

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Breathe

But how am I supposed to do such a thing when you crush me under the weight of your words?
When all I ever wanted was to be free,
But how can a clip-winged bird ever be more than caged?
All I wanted was to be able to fly,
And you stole that from me.

I let you in.
I let you tear me down.
I let you take my passion.
I let you hide the sky that was mine to fly.
Why did I let you?
I let you ruin everything,
WHY?
Because I grew up thinking you knew best.
Because the naive little girl thought that it was normal to be shoved around,
That same little girl later read about 'learned helplessness' and just how much she had given up.
She had heard the phrase "It's all in your head" one too many times,
From a father who seemed to think that belittling her pain would help somehow.

Her senior year of high school she couldn't even pick up a pencil because spikes of pain would shoot up her arm,
She was told, "It's all in your head",
She couldn't write.
She couldn't draw.
She couldn't take photos.
She couldn't lift a simple book.
Her passions that had once had the ability to lift her spirits to new heights were just a list of the many ways to torment her.
She could do nothing but put an ice pack on her wrist and hope that the cold wouldn't seep into her heart.

Over time the cold would find its way in and over time she began to wear the ice as a mask,
She gave in,
Letting it squirm deeper into her being,
She wore it to every event,
She no longer wanted to deal with life.
So many times, that young girl would find herself wishing it was all in her head.

Everyone says the depressed wear the best masks but I think it's more that everyone around them refuses to see their depression,
It's a monster everyone meets but no one wants to acknowledge,
But how can you ignore being crushed?

Her first year of college began with losing her best friend to an overdose,
She began to lose faith in what little was left of her torn, broken heart,
How was she supposed to keep moving when the one person who had always been there was now gone?
"He wouldn't have wanted you to be sad," they'd say,
Who are you to say what he wanted for me?
I know exactly what he would have wanted but you!
You know nothing.
He was the only person I had in my life that would tell me every-single-time that I doubted myself to follow my dreams no matter what.

Every night when that young girl would go to bed for months after, she'd wake up hoping it was all part of some horrible nightmare,
That everything was all in her head,
Only to find reality had won.
There was no going back to change harsh words that were exchanged,
There was no giving one more hug for the road,
There was no going back.
No going back...
His death was permanent.
And she would forever wage war with the idea that maybe, just maybe, he could have been saved.

Breathe in,
Breathe out,
It will be okay,
It's what they all say,
So, I decided that I would find another way to traverse the sky,
I'd fly on steel wings that couldn't be clipped.
7/26/16