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Chapter One



If you would be so kind
As to follow me through
A series of passages and scenes
And letters that were written for you about
People who who are just as messed up as me


Take a look with me now to scene one
As the battle has already begun
A war fought by her psyche
Against the machine beating in her chest
Please don’t mind the blood on her shirt,
It’s only a sign that she seems to not have gotten enough rest last night
because last night was a battle too,
Fought and won
But by 1am tonight she was back at it again all too soon
If we take a look at the inside of her brain
we see demons that used to hide deep in her locker
Like the problematic memories she thought she tucked far enough away that she wouldn’t have to remember them anymore, because for her the problem wasn’t forgetting,
the problem was remembering
And every bottle aimed for her head was another memory that she wishes she could forget
but now, the demons aren’t hiding
They’re deciding to torture her.
yelling and screaming lies at her saying
“You’re worthless!” “you’ll never be loved!”
“And no matter how hard you seem to try you’ll never be enough!”


At first, she hid her face
Thinking to herself, “if they see what i’ve become, surely i will be a disgrace! Surely they will have no mercy for my mistakes, because the number is plenty and i’m all out of space to place my forbidden thoughts
For as swiftly and dangerously as the river runs so do my thoughts seem
And i know, a more faithful person is who i ought to be
Because a sad and lonely ‘waste of space’ is someone i’d rather not, be.”
At first the fear of being alone with herself was
Not apart of the daily routine
but as time went on we see, tragedy
For it seemed to stay all day
she never meant to fade away
She never meant to feel like this
She never meant to bathe in hopelessness
And she found an easy way to cope with this
Saying it’s okay as long as nobody sees it.
I mean as long as, nobody ceases it
I mean, as long as nobody sees her with it
I mean as long as nobody mentions it
“It’s going to be a long summer with those long sleeves” She said
as the leaves blossomed and changed and she ached for them to take the pain away that her father left for her on that  day.



Chapter Two





One memory she remembers reminiscing with her mother the most, was that of a hillside cabin
Her first vacation after the adoption
Bags packed, Father, Mother and her, hit the cement
She watched the trees fly by while mom and dad took turns to drive
At one point she even tried to count the posts on this really really long fence
And after hours of driving, getting out to stretch and pee and eat every once in awhile
They made it to their destination
And oh my god the view was amazing.
They parked the car on that slanted road, opened the door, threw the luggage on the floor and drew the curtains to reveal the valley below and the clouds in the sky
And as that eight year old little girl held onto her father’s hand she asked him “daddy, why do birds fly?”
He told her reasons such as
“To find food more quickly” and
“To get away from predators more swiftly.”
But she thought it was a little silly
But then she stopped for a moment and thought and then asked-
“Daddy, why then did my first mommy and daddy fly away, was i their predator?”
He didn’t have a solid answer
All i could think to do was just hold her
But then, he stopped and thought, and told her
“Darling, your mother and i, we are going to love you unconditionally. You will be our little bird and we’ll do all that we can to protect you, but also get you ready for the world. And baby we’re going to teach you how to fly.”
They spent the remainder of the evening watching birds fly, eating hamburgers and laughing until they cried.


This.. this is what joy felt like
This is what innocence felt like
This is what believing and having faith in a father felt like.


But now that she’s grown old, she’s lost that faith and joy to the winter cold.
And it’s more convenient to wear long sleeves in the winter
And when the rest of the world is just a little bit darker, it’s a whole lot easier to be a lot more bitter.
Her mom offers to take her shopping, because slowly none of her clothes begin to fit her.
And it’s not because she’s any bigger
Even though her father is no longer able to lift her
But that stopped years ago when he missed her
Fifth dance recital
Too caught up in work and sleep and work and sleep and work and needing to feel something and


I think you see


Chapter Three



You see
When her father was little he was beaten as well
Broken bottles smashed and smacked with a belt
He’s been carrying his own demons through the years
Maybe that’s why he felt so connected with the girl
He understood the pain she had gone through
He was once trapped in a similar world


And i understand completely that maybe it’s a little lazy too rhyme girl with world but if you only understood or felt that that girl was his world and he loved her more than he ever loved himself
i wouldn’t rhyme it if it wasn’t true.
do not believe me, because i wouldn’t ever lie to you.


I’m not sure how it feels to be a father or further more be a father that’s farther from okay than i could even imagine to be, but he was.
But there were days, just like for me there are days, where everything seems that it’s going to be okay
But it’s difficult to decipher the difference these days when everyday seems to be the same.


Work, dinner, sing her to sleep, goodnight
Work, dinner, rock her to sleep, goodnight
Work, shower, dinner, dishes, goodnight
Breakfast, work, dinner, goodnight
Chores at home, sing her to sleep, goodnight
Work, dinner, call to make sure she’s okay away at a friends, goodnight.
One thing that he was so afraid to do, was fail.
He didn’t want to fail like his father, and her birth mother and her  first father.
But his pain had been rooted into his guts and only the sharpest knives could slice the weed growing in his soul.
Only the sharpest.


He loved her more than life itself.
He loved her more than he ever loved himself
But the love of a human can’t save a life
And the sooner that i come to grips with that
The better chances i have at winning my own fight.


I said the love of a human can’t save a life
And the sooner that i come to grips with that
The better chances i have at winning my own fight


THE LOVE OF A HUMAN CAN’T SAVE A LIFE
AND THE SOONER THAT I COME TO GRIPS WITH THE FACT THAT YOUR DEATH WASN’T MY FAULT
THE BETTER CHANCES I’LL HAVE AT WINNING MY OWN FIGHT


And i’m going to sleep tonight knowing that it wasn’t my fault.


The death of her father was not her fault.


Chapter Four



Although it wasn’t
She couldn’t help to blame herself
the same way that her birth parents were abusive and unloving, so was her mind
her thoughts strangling her
Now that all too familiar red is falling
From her arm to the floor,
She thinks back to the log cabin
And whispers
“I wasn’t like this before!”
“I used to believe in love and adventure and not wanting to die, but that thought keeps, coming back to mind the way it did for my father.”


And the voices won’t leave
Everyday, just a little bit more difficult to breath
She needs something
She needs a miracle


That’s exactly what her mom is praying for
Because she began to notice the blood stains on the carpet floor and she’s not about to lose one more to the devil or the lord or whoever you want to say takes them away
Because as much as i want to believe the lord uses all things for good, i can’t help but wonder what good it does for a teenager to want to die
And lie and say, “no really, i swear i’m fine.”
So her mother does nothing but her best, for her daughter that’s depressed
But the love of a human cannot save a life.
No matter how hard you try.


The voices began to get louder


“You have no worth!” You’re fat and you will never be good enough.”
“Go away, no one wants you!”
She believes every word to be true,
All up to the moment of truth


Her mother gone, pen and paper at her side
White topped tube next to her, she calls god one final time


“God! Can you hear me?? Can you hear what i’m saying?? Do you even care at all? Please.. Lord, I’m begging. I miss my daddy, he promised me that i would fly, and tried but he left, and it seems that all that is left to do is die.”


With the bottle of pills dumped out onto her hand
The closet door shut, paper scribbled on furiously
She hopes the pills will kill, sheds one tear, raises her hand, and suddenly-







Epilogue



To be honest with you, i’ve never been good at ending stories
I’ve always been good at crossing the line between, fiction and based on a true story
Without anyone knowing completely
What it is that’s real and what exactly is phoney
But even the stuff that’s full of bologna
really affects me
What can you expect from me?
Maybe for you the ending is sad
She threw it all away
Maybe for you the mother walked in and she lived another day


For me the story is open ended
Cause i live it every day
And maybe
that’s the best way to end it
You can choose a new one everyday


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