One-A-Day

He says I lack emotions.  He craves an explosion and searches for my fuse.  He presses buttons, digging for the crack in my facade.  But he doesn't know it's a facade.  He thinks I'm naturally cold and distant.  He doesn't realize that he is the thief of my emotions, that he is the shield to my expression.  I've submitted to his will, to his desires, to his threatening physicality a hundred times over.  And now the only power I feel coursing through my veins is the power to deprive him of my true self.  I will not tell him what I'm thinking.  I will not show him how I'm feeling. ...But after a stretch of time filled with unheeded "no's" and attempts to escape his firm grasp, I cannot help but break down.  My body is racked with sobs.  I cry uncontrollably and he holds me, telling himself he's comforting me.  Ignoring the fact that his ludicrous quest for emotion led me to this point.  Oblivious to the smirk ...

honesty has evaded me for so long because i have been afraid to admit truth to myself. hiding, always hiding, from the light truth is only revealed in hindsight. head in the clouds, i have attempted to live tomorrow as today passes me by. i thought by living in passion i could purchase a pass back to today. but that plane has flown and i fear i have destroyed my landing pad...once so new, with such potential... it's been incinerated; my plane held too much fuel.

Present in body, absent in mind, My thoughts fly away when you begin to speak. Evidence fo a faulty choice on my part? Multiple choice only made me confused. Your expectations make me sick; Can't you see my heart's not here? Where it resides I haven't learned - The map's outdated; X marked the spot when I followed a different path. I live another life now. My freedom is still fresh and I'm overwhelmed with my free will. I cannot will myself to commit without my entirety involved. My heart resides elsewhere; I do not know where.

My peers approach science with fervor I lack. Unsure of my footing; afraid to turn back. Continued adventures on this path I tread, Once fueled by intrigue, I fear now it lies dead. No longer a cat, inquiry lies dormant. With more hesitation, I'm stuck in cement. As much as I'd rather delay this big choice, I must act with haste or sacrifice my voice.

She notes details for no reason. She knows every crack in the sidewalk on the way to the mailbox. She agonizes over the crooked towel bar - the right side three-eighths of an inch higher than the left...levels did exist when this building was constructed, she emphatically insists to the perfectionist greasing the gears in her brain.  She avoids hanging pictures because she's afraid her bad aim will hammer the nail into the way a centimeter away from its intended position - at least on the carpet, paintings line up with the slanted floor.  Her mini-blinds vary in color from just-whitened-teeth white to light, lacy, cream...she keeps them open regularly so the variance is easier to ignore.  She fixes the shower curtain during each shower so that the plastic rings are evenly spaced.  She frets over the fact that the hangers in her closet are mismatched. Yet her bedroom is a mess.  Her refrigerator houses food past its expiration date.  The top of...

Bored.  Too bored to even rack my mind for a synonym.  My English teachers emphatically insisted upon vivid words that promote imagery.  But my major is in the field of science - imagery has no place in homework for my college professors.  The only acceptable imagery is that which takes place in the laboratory - it's termed observation here.  My creativity is hampered in my studies - my linguistic proficiency is diminished by my extended leave of absence from places my heart once called home.  My right brain threatens atrophy.  I cannot focus when my path leads to a life I cannot suffer.  Success and stability await me there but I cannot endure separation of my soul from my body.  Seeking a reunion, I must distance myself from the life I convinced myself to pursue.  I may be too proud to accept handouts but I am not too proud to admit I was mistaken after three years.  It's tough to turn myself around, though.  Whe...

Torn between the right and the desirable, I ache to turn towards to fire but My infinidecimal wisdom tells me to back away. I'm not ready.  My heart is weak, my brain washed Into believing what I need is among the ashes. But ashes fly away on the wind, carried away To other lands, into other hands not my own. Deep inside my aching heart, the knowledge resides: Until I'm strong enough to stand alone, I cannot find a crutch to help me stand. But once I have this crutch, I am fireproof and can embrace the flames.