Finding Paris

I wish I could have gone to Paris this year. I watched from afar, though, and that's good enough for now. I'll be there for real someday. Soon, I hope.

But even though I wasn't all the way there, Paris still taught me. It taught me that beauty can be found wherever you care enough to look, and that I feel alive when I realize that just maybe I am beautiful, too. 

I learned that being in love is not always a good thing and that all the darkness in the world can be forgotten by just one ray of light. 

In Paris I wandered into places of death and even though I wanted to leave, I stayed because the death reminded me of the value of life. Your life and my life and his life and her life and our life. 

I found out that growing up isn't as glamorous as I was told it was, because when you don't know what comes next, it's really hard to be happy about it.

I realized that drowning in my tears never got me anywhere and that silence isn't always golden but it is precious.

I discovered that the words 'I love you' are the most powerful words ever spoken, along with 'goodbye' and 'thank you.' I learned that I'm not alone even when it feels like I am because Paris is full of people like me who just want to be seen and heard and known.

Paris showed me that poetry can hurt without trying and the scars on my heart are so much more painful than the ones I keep finding on my arms. 

In Paris I watched the rain from the balcony. I thought it was beautiful. And then decided that I'd rather go stand in it, dance in it, shout my spirit to the world in it, and I did and was much happier.

I tried running away from everything that made me feel uncomfortable until I noticed that all my time was spent running. I didn't like that much, but it's hard to face your fears head on and sometimes it hurts, too.

I determined that I would remember the memories and savor the moments because they pass too quickly and are too easy to forget. The memories I miss the most are the ones I've forgotten.

And Paris revealed to me that everyone's Paris is just a little bit different, but everyone has one even if they don't always realize it. Don't miss out. The sun is setting in Paris, but you and me are destined, not to be revered, or to be powerful, but simply to be. Because the sun will rise again.

Run Away With Me

I'm trapped in a valley of disillusionment. The mountains are sketched, the clouds were painted. It can't be real, and I wanted to run away from it. 

I've run away from home so many times. But it usually happens in my head. No matter how many times I run away, though, I always have to come back. I wish I had somewhere else I could stay, because I know if I actually did run my parents would just be angry at me when I eventually got back, when I eventually realized I have no other choice but to go back to my house that is not a home. Someday I'll be brave enough to say no, and I won't dread going home. But not today. Once I get there I feel confused and angry and go to my bedroom, the only place in my house that feels even remotely like home. And lately that doesn't even feel the same. I haven't even slept in my own bed in a week. 

Outside is more home than in. My smile is pained, but at least I'm smiling as the sunlight hits my face and my years of tears burn tracks down my cheeks. If you look closely the next time you might be able to see the scars. The wind in my hair made me want to fly or make declarations of love in Spanish. 

There's a swing set out back. It's about as close as I can get to flying, and it gave me a headache. I always get headaches when I swing. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry when I finally jumped off. I don't know a lot of things these days. 
Like what to do about my relationships. Is it better to have a wonderful relationship that's completely fake or a real relationship that's total garbage? Yet another thing I don't know. 

And what to do about death. Saying someone has passed away doesn't change the fact that they're dead. They died, and phrasing it differently doesn't change a thing. They're still dead. 

I feel so alone. And then you came. You swept me off my feet and asked me to run away with you. I really wanted to, more than I've wanted to do anything before, but I couldn't, and I hope you'll forgive. 

I still have daydreams about you coming back. Maybe then we can actually run away, because I've wanted to for so long. And you can pick me up and carry me outside to the passenger seat and we can run away into the sketched mountains and painted clouds.

Please tell me it's not just a daydream. Run away with me.

Locked

I want to slap the smile off your face, but that would only give you pleasure because I'm fighting back.

I want to tie your hands behind your back so you can't hurt me, and lock you in a closet where you can't hurt others, until you understand what it's like to be lonely. 

I want to duct tape your mouth so that you can't say any more hurtful words, because that means I no longer have to pretend that they don't hurt me. 

I want to find out what's important to you and use it against you, and I want to destroy your twisted heart that will only get more crooked with time. 

I want to scar your face so people won't be taken in by your innocent looks and constant lies.

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Tears sting behind my eyelids, but I won't cry. I won't cry. I can't give you the satisfaction of seeing me cry, letting you know I want to run and hide where you'll never find me. 

I never want to see you again because I loath these feelings you arouse in me. I hate feeling this much fury, this much rage, this much pain, this much misery every time I see you. 

I hate being scared of what I want to do. I hate feeling this way. 

I hate what you're turning me into.