Dear ______,... Love, ______

Dear ______,
         Open your eyes man. Look at where we're headed. Don't you see the danger signs? The flashing lights of warning? Don't you hear the sirens wailing? My voice...? Quivering...? On the brink...? Of giving up? Of giving in? Of breaking down? It's sink or swim. ______, don't you see? The bargains they're making are starting to sound better with each passing moment and I'm afraid I can't pass them up; they're a steal. You keep shattering the panes of the window frames you put in place. What's the point? What's your deal? Is there any way I can escape with an easy hand? Have ______, this card shark of a dealer, dole out a win? Maybe I could swim safely away from this infested water instead of getting pulled under, instead of getting further frozen in this emotionless winter, but no, I'm afraid not; it's a sink and a swim relationship, a push and pull, a to and fro, a fall and fly: a controlled chaos. And that's sad to know because eventually something has to give way, even now the balance, the insane yin and yang feeling, the governed anarchy, is tipping, and I wonder if you think that it's the good that's actually dominating.

Love, ______

**Sigh**

People keep pushing me towards ending something I know can be too good to give up. Sometimes I'm happy and aren't those small precious moments enough? It's too hard and it's gone on for so long that to bring it all crashing down around me would be pointless and painful. They say from the outside that I'm in pain now and that walking away from this is so much better and that the pain would subside eventually, but I don't see it. I see bumps on the road, ones conquered and ones that remain and I believe if I stay just a little while longer maybe, just maybe, it'll all smooth over and stay long forgotten in the rear view.

Breaking Inhibition

My fingers hit the keys heavily, furiously,
Due to anxiety to release what’s inside,
To set free to a blank white sky what I’ve tried so hard to hide:
the lonely, dark heavy emotion that’s afraid to publicly show its head.
It waits for the paper and it waits for the pen
So it can fling itself onto the white abyss where it can find its end.

But the pain and fear always return
So I’ll find myself writing again.

I come and I go because it’s always there; writing is my friend.

When I’m writing
I’m releasing emotion:
Bringing calm to the ocean
With it’s current that’s constantly pushing and pulling
On my mind throughout the years
Its constant tide is always there, ebbing in my ears.

When I put pen to paper
My heart flows freely to the lead
So I can finally rest my aching head
From all the pent-up stress
Hidden from the eyes of others
The stuff that’s been building up, that’s been suffocating beneath the covers
Of the façade I put in place for all to see
For fear of what they’ll think of the real me,
The real me who’s alive in the writer me
The me who’s afraid, who’s alone, and who only trusts the barriers she herself has built.

So any one person could understand how sharing my work is terrifying:
I’m fearful someone will take my work, read it, and then frown,
And then, onto me, they shall look down.

Giving someone my work is like letting them take what I hold closest,
It’s saying “Here’s my heart, the one that I’ve always kept so heavily guarded, the one where writer Katelynn resides;
The pl, essentially, the real me hides.”
It’s saying “Take my heart. Go ace whereon and take it. Take it. Take it please”
Letting my heart go should feel like letting all my inhibitions free to float away on the breeze.

Which should feel like letting the real me break through the exterior Katelynn;

It should feel like an exhilarating free-fall where life is only saved by the joyous wings of flight.
Releasing the papers of my work unto another’s eager eyes
Should be as easy as exhaling into the wind
As soon as I’m able to loosen my grip: Once I let go and I just give in.

Hidden

I once asked myself why:
Why am I afraid of another’s touch
Why can’t I drop the facade I always maintain?
Why do I depend on it like a crutch?

I laid in bed one night and dreamt:
I’m in a garden, underneath a full autumn moon
There’s an elaborate masquerade ball
The air is thick with tension like humidity in June

The women wear evening gowns
They’re 18th century, Victorian Style
The men and women dance about the garden
They’re movement are so natural, like boats floating along the Nile

Each mask is unique and gaudy
They sparkle hauntingly in the moonlight
They hide the wearer but brag to the viewer
They sneer in the shadows of the night

They dance a waltz to eerily cheery music
Its daunting notes are muddied in the air as they drift
And the music becomes more and more like a vicious symphony
The tone picks up and then everything sounds desperate

Everyone’s clothes become ratty and ragged
They transform as they dance and then the music stops
Then the people come to a standstill
Simultaneously, all their masks drop

My garish mask and gown remain
I stand alone within the crowd
Their gazes shift from one another to me
Then they all stare me down

The dream ended suddenly as they began to close in
When I woke, I panted and tried to make myself steady
I gathered my breath and tried to be calm
Coming to grips that the dream was just a dream
Then I realized it mirrored my reality
I thought that maybe it was just fear of rejection
Revealing what’s underneath the mask and the layers of fabric
Only to find, there is nobody with acceptation

I’ll never be what you see
That woman is not a woman at all
She isn’t me, for I am hidden
Hidden beneath a battered armor

I wear an armor but I am not a knight, no, not in the slightest
I’ve not been deemed worthy by my king
I’m just a lonely self employed mercenary, I defend only myself
I push all on the outside away from the treasure within

I keep to my own
They say that I’m crazy, they say that I’m insane
I shut out all the sunlight brought to my door
I keep to my routine

I’ll never leave myself defenseless
I defend against any an all possible weapons
I myself am discluded though
For I alone am allowed to tear myself down

By taking on the beliefs of others of the past
I know that I am letting down everyone
I’m letting down all who see and believe the strong armor
And all who see a woman that not one eye could shun

But inside is a woman who cowers as a child does
Who cowers because she is just a prepubescent girl
She is the child who heard every taunt
And now she lives in a constant turmoil

Lonely and hurt
The girl has retreated and remains hidden beneath the exterior
She fears the day that the sunlight will break through
Showing that she is extremely inferior

The sunlight might burn her
Her fear is immense, she draws further back each day
She shrinks herself down to a speck
Me removing my mask means, her, I have betrayed

She hides between two worlds
One of defense, the other, fear
She can’t find a way back out
She has lost herself in there

She is me and I am her
But we are not one
We’re separated by the space between the worlds
But we were both scarred by the internalization

She’s trusted in the mask
I’ve worn it for all these years because of what it does
It protects us from the outside world
I’ve worn it since I learned what judgment was

We are marred by our past
We live in fear of our present
I’m forever protecting what’s behind the mask
And I swallow the pill of each day down like a psychological depressant