the Sunshine.

You can ask if I'm ok, but I won’t answer. But I know you care in the good way. Also, you'll be able to tell because I'm hooked to a heart monitor. If it beats 68 four times then 76 once, well, then you're going to know. I can get a bless if I need it and I can get a bless even if I don’t. Write the letters and feel the pain but let the words fill it and heal it.

Don’t let others feel the same sadness. Hide and don’t let them find you. Childhood game. So it’s ok. Sometimes I feel my face and the ocean water must have spit on me. Salt stays dried on my cheeks, and stings my eyes. The earth rids the reality of it. 10 seconds on TV and 100 words in news print. Shocks roll in and out, no expectation. No prep.

 I put my head in the cold, dark ocean; no one can hear the scream. Watched the sun go down to shed tears in the dark. I feel like it can pass now. This time I’ll let it travel through instead of washing over my crippled mass. Rolling me, scraping me. I bled.
           I f

               e

                l

                  l

My friends and family need me back; I see it in their eyes. I need to fight for me, and for you. Waiting for the day where the dark will limp away and Sunshine will fill the spaces once again.