June 8th, 2011 - 2:46am

It is almost three o’clock in the morning and I am not tired at all. I am actually very tired. I am the kind of tired that sleep cannot fix. I am laying on my stomach in a bed that does not belong to me and I am thinking of how maybe we all see things differently. Maybe the colors and the shapes and the vivacity of things I am looking at through these eyes are not the same colors and shapes as you are seeing right now reading these words on your computer screen with probably your hand against your face and one of your legs tucked under your ass. Why are you here? Why are you reading these words? For the first time in your life you are at a loss for words. I am laying here on my stomach on this bed that is not mine and I have all the right answers. I know exactly how everything will play out. I have all the right words and I know how to string them along in sentences that will make your heart ache in the kind of way that will make you close your eyes and sit back and you will feel my words soaking through your skin and into the steady stream of your bloodflow and they will travel down to your toes and back up to your heart and they will find a home there and you might wake up tomorrow morning and realize that everything I am saying is so right and how could you have ever thought differently and maybe you will look out of your window and hear things you have never heard before like a small girl laughing as she jumps into a street full of cars while her mother is too busy texting the man she is cheating on her husband with things that mean nothing to him but everything to her or maybe you will hear the sigh of a teenage girl on a bench waiting for her bus looking into her compact mirror and loathing the way her nose is too big or her teeth not white enough and the sigh of the boy next to her who has always been next to her, maybe her whole entire life, maybe for a couple minutes, the lovely sigh of a boy who sees things in a girl that she could never see herself. I am ugly and I am raw but I am everything you have ever needed and craved and I am in the air you breathe and in the water you hate to drink and in the finger with the scrape on the knuckle you shove down your throat in hopes of something better tomorrow because you do not understand time and you do not understand that it gets better just hold on please I know your fingers hurt I know your wrists ache but that is okay, it will be okay, I will kiss your scars as you heal I will sit by your side and hold your hand I will write invisible secrets and paragraphs and maybe a book into your skin at night while you sleep warm next to me. You think you want to die, but in reality you just want to be saved. If you think it is all over with right now, stop for a moment, yes, you right there, sitting at your computer reading these words, these words that have grasped onto something deep inside of you because if they had not you would still not be reading this you would have gone off gotten something to eat complained to someone masturbated insulted someone you don’t even know anonymously because it gave you that sense of pride and accomplishment you are lacking and have been lacking for a very long time. If you think it is all over with right now, stop, and breathe, stop, and remember - you have not even lived yet. You are alive and you have not even lived yet. What a sad thing to read and breathe in and realize.