She cannot speak, and so she screams.

She cannot think, and so she dreams.

Each step she takes is one closer to the edge.

Doesn’t know what will trip her, but knows she’ll fall.

Everything is going good; it’s going great.

She’s Wonder Woman, with the wind in her cape.

Then something happens - she is unsure what.

But suddenly, she struggles to stay afloat.

She continues to scream, wondering when someone will hear.

She continues to cry, because it’s easier than succumbing to fear.

Everyone says she’s doing just that, but what they do not understand

Is that she’s fighting harder than they realise.

She fights to breathe; every intake causes her to flinch.

She fights to walk, because each step of her feet causes her back to cry out.

She is in so much pain, and they do not even realise.

Perhaps they are the ones who do not know what it is to be human,

For if they did, wouldn’t they ask?

Yes, she thinks, they’d care a lot if she had a way to express herself.

No, she doesn’t understand why she can’t move forward.

Yes, she does, she’s moving forward all the time. The steps are small, but indeed they are there.

No, she cannot be selfish with her wants when it’s everyone else she wants to impress.

It is a struggle to breathe, and yet she does, more than you give her credit for.

She, is me.

She sits, and she waits. She runs and contemplates her life.

She doesn’t know why, but she feels if cries that first time

That it won’t be the last. She holds on so tightly to the past.

And though she’s tried a thousand times,

She doesn’t know how to say goodbye and live in the now.

She’s struggling to survive; every breath she takes is one closer to the end.

She wishes for the day she can stop pretending. What happened to her happy ending?

She doesn’t know how to stop a feeling, now that it’s there.

She’s tried; she’s held on and she’s cried.

She just doesn’t know why she is alive.

Each step she takes is in the dark,

One that shows her mark inside.

No, she’s not dead -- her spirit is alive.

She tries to escape the madness inside.

She tries to make the best of a situation that makes her cry.

And so she breathes; she does it now with ease.

She says, “I can do this, if I please.”

And so she does.

The first day I lost you I couldn’t breathe.

I did not know how to function without you with me.

I counted the days until it’d been a month, two, three.

Suddenly it’s been a year. I lost track, but you were with me.

I know the love you gave was unconditional,

So I guess I’m being strong, honouring your memory as I move along.

Even though it’s never easy, I’m trying not to think about the past.

I know you’d want me in the future.

I wish I had gotten one last great talk

Before you ascended upon that great walk.

I know we weren’t the closest, but you were there,

And now you are not.

And my heart breaks a little more each time I try

To imagine you, standing there by my side.

Can’t ever do it; frustrates me to no end.

There’s an old song that you, me and sister dear

Sung all along. It goes, “Ooh, ee..” And I sing it now.

Will you sing it with me?

There was a time I was sure I should call you “Dad”

And now, all there’s time for is staring at the remnants you left,

That old folded flag.

You were stronger than I ever thought to be,

And now all that’s left is your memory.

I try so hard, but second-guess

Til there’s nothing left but a mess.

Did I grow up to your standards?

I don’t think I have, but I’ve tried so hard.

I wanted to be the ideal, but I’m just a reject.

I can’t pretend that it’s alright, so let’s hit the eject.

We lost the friendship; we lost the closeness.

We lost the bond; we lost it all.

We can’t go back, ’cause there’s nothing there.

Did you know, you’re supposed to be my hero?

Oh, where did that go?

I can’t stand another fight.

I try to talk to you --

But there’s a wall between.

There’s no standard you can hold to me.

You left when I was three.

How could you do that?

I guess you thought it all through,

And when it was said and done

You were proud, weren’t you,

To be rid of the daughters you never wanted?

Or maybe you have come, since the time I asked last,

To regret the things you have done in the past.

But last I asked, you said you wouldn’t change a thing.

Do you know how bad that hurt, to know you’d leave me like that again?

I just wanted to make you proud.

But you know what?

I’m proud of myself,

And the shit I’ve put up with from you.

That crap is hard to deal with, but I’ve done it

For so long, but no more.

I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

Family’s a funny thing.

Everyone goes and does their own.

Makes me wonder, honestly,

What makes a family?

I know what makes a boy -

Snips and snails and puppy dog tails.

And what makes a girl -

Sugar and spice and everything nice.

But what makes a family?

A family has many parts.

Each, on their own would survive,

But when together, they bring them properly to life.

And now there’s left one question.

What makes a family?

Cousins and aunts, sisters and brothers,

Husbands and wives, children and mothers -

Though this is far too hard, to name each one,

Know you’re wanted, each of you, from daughter to son.

I suppose in the end, I already knew -

A family is made with me and with you.

The room is grey.

His hands are white.

I can see the moon in the approaching twilight.

As everyone's singing I catch him looking around one last time with his tired eyes.

The words don't blend, and I am sobbing; I am a mess.

Until this very moment, I had never known true distress.

Can you imagine the strength it must have taken,

Looking around, the world so clear, as one last time the world was deafening and shaken?

Can you imagine the pain he must have been in,

To move his head and see the tears we were freely weeping?

I always knew he was strong, but on that final day I saw the end of the strength give out.

I always knew he’d loved me, but on that final day he reminded me.

I never knew he was weak, but on that final day he was so frail.

I never knew he would cry, but on his cheek was a tear trail.

Most people hear the sound of their best friend’s voice daily,

Through the telephone or face to face.

Oh, how I wish I was one of them!

Instead, I’m stuck between a computer, a phone, screen.

Friendships are not based off of the physical closeness.

People will tell you, “Don’t talk to the people on the Internet,

They’ll take you, they’ll hurt you.”

But, oh, how I wish they would.

The people behind a screen can be so nice, so understanding,

When all the world around me is mean.

Friendships are not based on the distance between you.

But one day -- oh, one day, I will break that distance.

One day I will hug them, and comfort them for all the times my words were all I had.

One day I will run in the airport, into the waiting arms of--

My precious Internet friend.

It started off with a simple job;

I never expected through it I’d get a mum.

We started off barely even friends.

Then, it changed as I saw the ends she’d go to.

I call her a friend.

Every Monday, bright and early, she’ll come,

Team and all, ready to clean, and brighten a day like she does the windows.

She’s been hurt before, somehow I can tell,

Though it never shows through; she’s strong as hell.

I call her role model.

One Monday though, it changed - something slight.

Nana was talking and the woman, she turns to look at me.

She goes, “Is she getting this right?”

I laugh and nod, and realise that somewhere along the line

I’ve gained a family member.

So I wanted to take a poem out of the many,

Tell her thank you, and that if there’s anyone I trust

It’s Nana and her. They’ll get me through and out

Of any mess I could concoct.

I call her Mum.

She was wearing a dress with no back. I swore she’d one day give me a heart attack.

With that said, we took the floor, a dance like this I’ve never had before.

She danced with bravery - the kind it takes years to have.

She danced with grace - the kind you’re born with.

I danced with foolery - the kind it takes seconds to have.

I danced with fire - the kind you’re warned of.

She made me feel like I was on fire, burning too brightly.

I was sure I was going to explode, pieces on the floor.

I kept going, we kept dancing, spinning around ’til we couldn’t take it anymore.

There was a fire in my heart, and I was ready to burn.

Years later, she told me how she felt, how I made her heart melt.

Years later, she informed me I won her with my chivalry, all her walls falling and disarming.

“Gosh,” she said, “you were so charming!” I felt like giving her a warning.

So I said, “You are my future, and I don’t see one where we don’t crash.”

She agreed, but still we kept moving, unafraid of the backlash.

The dagger sits between them; it stands for everything she hates,

Lying, controlling, and manipulating.

She’d never take away a person’s free will, and yet she has.

She’s done it to her husband, her chosen one.

How can she keep from sobbing as everything they’ve worked to go through has been redone?

He may have thought she was gone, but oh,

Couldn’t he have saved himself from being once more the Dark One?

Couldn’t he have done it for himself?

//

Doesn’t she know, doesn’t she see?

The dagger isn’t the only thing controlling me.

Not only that, but she.

I’d do anything she asked of me.

Didn't you hear? You are the light that makes my darkness disappear…

The darkness had tempted me, yes you know this,

But what tempted me more was your kiss.

The thought of a family - little one, you and me -

That tempted me away from the dark that you see.

It’s why I’m doing this! Can’t you see?