Alone

I need to be alone,

Let whiskey peel back the calloused layers of my brain

I need to feel something, 

To live for something,

Or die for it

I want to know where the line between experience and trauma lies

At what point does it turn from a lesson learned to inevitable self destruction

I need to peel the masking tape off of my wounds and let them have some air

Let them bleed what they have left to bleed so they can finally grow into old scars

I need to relearn a respect for pain, 

Instead of resentment 

Find my former appreciation for scars and poetry

Is it possible to have a healthy relationship with fear? 

Can I know it well but without the intimidation and superiority?

Or perhaps I will always keep it held with a white knuckle grip but at an arm’s length

Emotionally paralyzed in my own tired skin

Vomiting cuss words with a raspy yell because I don’t know how to express myself anymore 

Every breath feels like being smothered, 

Or the dreams when you can never catch your wind 

Each scream falls silent on the breeze

Nothingness 

I’ve lost the ability to distinguish whether it is my body that aches or my soul 

How does one lose themself?

Are we not in the same bodies, attached to the very souls we were born to? 

Then how can it feel so foreign? 

Does it happen over night or slowly grow into a stranger we don’t recognize? 

I need to feel something

I need to be alive

To listen to horses breathe again

Watch the sunset and actually see it

Smell the morning air when it’s fresh and innocent

I need to be awake.

Xoxo, Gussie