A Tortured Mind

'Just breathe,' I tell myself.
But I can't escape the hole
that I sink further into
while you are away.

'Don't listen to them,' I tell myself.
They don't know the story,
they could never envision the pain
or the happiness you created.

'He loved you,' I tell myself.
But I think of the brick wall,
the dark valleys where I tried to find you
but never could.

'Its not your fault,' I tell myself.
But what kind of person tries to sleep
when another can only imagine
sleeping forever.

'Your heart will beat again,' I tell myself.
But how do I mend these cracks
and live a life without the one
who holds my heart.

'He was in pain,' I tell myself.
But how do I sift through the anger
and find deep inside that love he professed
at his final moments.

'Sleeping is not important,' I tell myself.
But how do I function as a human
and walk these streets with a voice
or come alive if I get the chance.

'Love like that is gone,' I tell myself.
That shoulder of a pillow is gone.
That freedom of worries is gone.
The adventure of the unknown is gone.
That excitement to come home is gone.
That comfort to be in your eyes is gone.