Running on Empty

I sit here empty

trying to regain the peace within my soul,

how did the love between us

get sucked through a freaking black hole?

You wanted me to bare of what was done before,

to confide in you so you can peer into my core.

I told you that I offer you my heart -

for I knew you wouldn't break it,

but I guess that just makes me the misfit.

I didn't tell you that I had gotten sick

after when you told me to

contact if an emergency came up,

from there you thought it was me

'not trusting you enough.'

I told you that I own up to it

even though I secretly don't see it

as that big of a deal,

I thought that you would still be there

beside me as I try and heal.

I was working on me and I went far,

but then I messed up...

and you demanded to know the history behind every scar.

I have been protecting myself that it's so hard to let go,

of the tightened grip on history that drags me down low.

I survived by fighting my way out

with the help of both Jesus and my father above,

both of whom - somehow - despite EVERYTHING

that I have done... still looks upon... ME... with love.

But your response was as cold

as the soup I made but can't force myself to eat,

and all I want you to do is hug me and not retreat.

I thought that you would love me through my mistakes,

and not push me further into the abyss that would be how

everything that is me breaks.

The abyss is something that envelops your world

but at the same time looks back,

bringing your nightmares to life in an all around attack.

It's not something I like to talk about -

what he did to me,

but you want to know the gory details

even as the pain is clear to see.

The thing is how can I earn redemption

in light of all that was,

with everything that happened

and how my life is like the horror movie

that only the sick give a round of applause.

I explained some things in detail and all you did was right me off,

as if you looked at everything I had written... and only scoffed.

You claimed that you 'butt dialed' me

after talking about me behind my back,

naming all of the things that you think that I lack.

I thought that the meaning of family was supposed to be forever

how we may have our spats but we always move on,

to get through side by side with each new dawn.

If this is true how could this be,

and how can I get rid of the sickening gut feeling

trapped within me?

I am sitting here and wondering

if there really is anything left for me,

am I only made up of the

forgotten dreams that I know that I will never be?

I can be here one day and gone the next,

are these the last things I want to leave behind...

these texts?

We can all die at any given moment

and with tears in my eyes,

I curl up into a ball and turn my gaze to the skies.

Is it fear of the unknown

that people truly dread about death,

and when my time comes

how many people will truly mourn for me...

after I take my last breath?

I don't know how to move on from here

and I can't tell what you truly desire from me,

though the main thing that I want

is to simply be free.

That is all I will ever ask for,

for I know within this one treasure

lies so many more.