that's all for me, thank you. [6 weeks til my birthday]

Bear with me.

I assure you, it isn't suddenly easier.

No one has been let off the hook. I mean, is any good-hearted soul able to be? They will take themselves to trial over and over and over, until self-forgiveness is learned. I feel the balances swaying all the time. Just when I think they are at rest, I let out a sigh of relief and it tips the scales.

I looked at myself in the mirror and saw all the traces of battery and assault from my own hands. Alone in the bathroom, again. Outside it's quiet. But really, everything is loud. Loud. LOUD.

I can't stop the replaying of conversations. The re-reading of texts of messages... the replaying of those dramatic situations... and I sometimes just want to know who is writing this bloody awful script. Because, it's as painful to watch as it is to live... and, I think we ought to skip to the part where I get to be happy.

I keep dreaming about bleeding out. Something's gone dreadfully wrong and the flow won't stop. I keep searching myself over like a detective for the clue to what has gone so very wrong.

I wake to find myself wanting to agree with those drunken assaults that said,

YOU ARE WEAK.

Seething with the rage trapped in a jar of moonshine.

I crave moments of stillness.

Moments of peace.

These tiny corners where I can hide for a while and rearrange my thoughts.

Where I can find the courage to sing it all out.

They evade me a little.

Or a lot.

I find myself in the place where I live...

when I'm alone, it's the murmur of the dogs playing, their constant need for my attention... their kisses, their warmth, their energy.

Or I'm not alone... and it's lovely. Laid back afternoon of wondering out loud... listening to music... talking or not. It's all ok.

Until someone's day is disrupted.

And they come barging in.

Like armed men in the quietest worshipful sanctuary.

I'm tired of loaded guns and loaded fists.

I'm tired of your head full of hate and your tongue full of venom.

I'm tired of the world revolving around the selfish.

Because right now, I need to just be quiet.

Then the air is tainted.

I wake up tired.

I wake up stressed.

I wake up hurting.

Pick up right where I left off.

I get alone in the bathroom and it gets louder and Louder and LOUDER.

I am infuriated with the little things...

the anger is so contagious.

And now we're all sick and I'm fighting harder than ever.

Fighting to disarm.

Fighting for peace.

And I don't want to anymore.

But, I won't join your causeless war and take it out on the world and those I love most the fact that I am dissatisfied with my present state.

BE SATISFIED.

So, let's find out what words take form.

Let's see what that looks like.

I'm done with this distress and agitation...

doing nothing but creating discord and knots in my muscles.

I want to be happy now.

i may be of little faith...

but i'll tell them to move.

and these mountains will move for me, now.