Up

Sometimes I imagine myself standing in the middle of a sleeping highway with only starshine to serve as my guide. I have no earthly directions to follow, but one.

Up.
Into the stars and away from the world.
Away from myself.

Depression hardens you.
It heightens all senses, intensifies pain.
I feel each crack under my foot and cringe under every glare placed upon my head.
Ironically though, I don't care.
I just want peace.

My head has become my solitary confinement from the world.
My true self doesn't speak with words, but rather with actions.
I've learned a complex language that many hope never to learn.

Through experience I've come to hate myself.
I'm pathetic and embarrassing.
Because of this, my soul dwells in a complex that I only let few near.
And even fewer, in.
I'm superficial to most.

Why can't I just be free?
My spirit longs to soar and span the world.
To flow with the wind, and crash with the waves of the sea.
To have my tears rain from the heavens and give life to lilies on the cusp of death.
To have my whispers rush across prairie grass or scatter fallen leaves on a breezy autumn day.

Physical trials leave scars upon the skin,
spiritual trials leave scars upon the heart,
and mental trials leave scars upon one's psyche,
never to fade.

A friend comforts.
A good friend listens.
A better friend understands.

Lately I've been obsessed with personality tests.
I guess I just want to find something that will pin me down.
Place me with others.
Tell me who I am.



During times like this, there really is only one direction to look,
Up.