This Is Being Stuck And Not Knowing What To Do

All I want is to wake up in the morning, and not turn my head into my pillow and scream that I did.

I want to know that waking up is another chance for me to be a better person.

I want to know that the sun shining through my windowsill, that sunshine, the one that is blinding my eyes is that ray of hope, a sign that is letting me know that I deserve light, and though darkness will come, right now it is light, and you have to use the amount of light you’re given wisely.

I want to get out of bed, because that seems to be the hardest part these days, leaving something you feel so attached to yet gives you nothing but a place to lay your head at night, a place to toss your scary monsters underneath, a place to confuse your realities and dreams.

I want to leave my bed and not have to rush back to it because I feel lost.

I want to brush my teeth and not point out the speckles of white that I have, not hate myself for having morning breath.

I want to be able to not shut my eyes when I look in the mirror, and just be satisfied with what I have, with what I have been given.

I want to know that locking my door is my way of telling myself that I can go out in the world and still come back, that I still have a place to come back to.

I want safety, I need to feel safe but I can’t put a lock on you, because you’ve thrown out the key, and you won’t stay for me to find it. It will take eternities for you to love me before I can love myself.

But if I could lock the love I have, or for that matter had, for you, into something that I could carry around with me, something tangible, in hopes that I could feel safe again or to remind myself that at one point I had love in something, that I believed in- something that wasn’t myself, I would throw the key away- I wouldn’t search for lost goods.

I want to stop searching and looking and just be, I want to know that one day it will all make sense, but for right now it doesn’t and I need to find the sense in that.

Keys are lost, beds get slept in, light turns to dark and milk spoils.

I just need a person, I need a person who knows herself in the mirror, I need that person to be me. Let’s be friends. I need to be your friend.

I want to be more than pages in an unfinished book. I want to be more than just number seven. I want to do a lot of things. I want to know who you are, but you don’t have a lock, you have no key.

I can’t get out of bed. This is it- me being stuck, me being weak, me not putting my needs before my wants. Because I want to throw my lock and key at you, I want you to to do it for me, I want you to find all the crevices and hidden hallways within myself.

But I should be tossing it into my own palms, saying “Here, go explore. Come back when you are ready.” I want to take the key and engrave it, somehow, somewhere that I can know I can be unlocked, I can expose myself without metal plates holding me back. And I know that key is somewhere within me, I want to find it but maybe I won’t be able to today. Maybe I am trying to find something that isn’t meant to be found.

What if the key is looking for me? Instead of always going looking, maybe they key lost, just trying to find a lock hole. Maybe I am just looking for an excuse for something to give me all the answers, when there aren’t answers for any of this- especially this.

Maybe if I can at least get out of bed, if I can at least brush my teeth, and make my coffee without contaminating myself with spoiled milk, then maybe I can find a use for the key- maybe I won’t be locked, maybe I will just be free.