Tourniquet

There is a place between pain and fear where we live. We lie there in the dark imaging the depth of our shallow graves. We lie there in the depths of the sea wondering how long till our bodies disintegrate. There is secret we all cary about our demise: we know its imminent.

There is a spot on all of our hands that echos all the blood we've seen, all the stones we've cast. It stains our minds and preps our coffins yet we take that soil and we build a life around our secrets.

I have so many.

I was born singing a song. Young as i can remember i knew the melody and lyrics to a haunting song of death and loss. I cant imagine a time when i didnt hear it play in my head. I have watched people die. I have seen faces in a low sepia tone come through in the dark. Walking through the black hallway at my parent's house, my house, i would leave the light off in the hall way for fear that they would know my fear yet i would run to escape the hallow faces i would see in the ether. the children searching my mind for help that would die; i could see them. as long as i have been alive i could watch them and i could hear them calling me, begging me, as if i had some choice.

in virginia the single most haunting event of my life occured. i lie in bed looking at the window, the window that called to me every night and outside the window would be anything from the devil to the Lord and i would never know which it would be. i could hear footsteps, see shadows cross, but they all waited.

i made a deal with the Lord. i would kill myself for Him. i would be His martyr. i suppose we all did. we all read catcher in the rye, we all thought we were special. we all thought life to be a tool instead of the ledge to which we cling, the net. it is easier to die when you're young. tis easier to believe and that's all there is to death.

when eduardo left town and i was in stay of his place i lied to him; i took over someone. i took over my animals and set them up to see the entirety of his place. i wanted them to see the view and i valued them over him. anyday.

i pray, we all do whether we admit it or not, i pray to God for help. i used to. i became and angry and now just request and yet he doesn't answer. i thought that was par for the course till last night. i went out and became quite ill and i silently, instantly, asked God to fix me. He did. within moments i was fine until i got home. Thought nothing of it. till the same thing happened tonight. i was so ill i couldn't see straight and then i asked for help almost out of reflex, yet it came, instantly.

on the bus this morning there was a man two seats away from me that clearly seemed out to get a rise out of me. he was on his cell phone and yet making silly faces at me as though i were a child he could convince to smile. i ignored him as any sane woman would have done. he spoke on his cell phone in monotone spanish with his pressed white shirt and simple tie. his slicked back black hair and his aged face with wrinkles staring in front of him and yet, and yet when he knew i would look... then it all came together.

i have always known that certain things i could feel. more so with fred but it is true none the less. when i give up trying to control and let the world happen i usually know what will happen. drunk at a bar i knew my father died. half asleep in the car i could feel my puppy leave me. and alone in the snow, high in the mountains i felt the world shift away and the towers collapse. i've always known. the first and only time my mother took me out in the car with my permit we were going to pass by two cyclers and my mother and i both knew the girl would fall. and she did. i swerved and she was fine but nothing will take away what we knew would happen. i always know. i knew topher would get engaged. i knew. but it is easier to turn away. it is easier to turn on the light and not see the faces of the starving, of the diseased.

the man on the bus with his bronzed face and his cracked lips was waiting. at the last stop he turned to me and i tried to turn away but it was too late, i already knew. with the rest of the passengers gone, he turned to me, moved his phone, stared in my eyes and told me. and i was back. 14 years ago in my bed, in my room in arizona, staring at the end of the bed, covers above my head, a man i didn't know stared me down, looked me in the eyes and said he knew. how was i to know it was just prophecy? i couldnt speak. it was the same man. the same face. the same gesture. waiting.

there is a point in a crisis center called triage where you deal with the most serious issue first. so no matter if the person will go blind if you leave the glass in his eyes, you stop the leg from bleeding to save his blood. no matter if he is hysterical, you stop the bleeding.

so make it stop. make me stop these things. make the voices, my the screams, make the faces, and the darkness, and the horror stop.

God can hear me.

All of you can hear me. All of you had lied awake imagining the coffin, imagining the darkness and the dirt and the emptiness and the phobia and the death. And all of you have thought about the secrets you'll carry with you. i have waited and i have prayed. i have hurt and i have saved. but, in the end, the blood will be my own. and it will never wash from my hands. i have waited all this time. i have waited. in the blizzard, in the dark, the only stain that you can see is your guilt.

the rings are placed on your fingers, the promises are whispered in church and yet i know. you know. there is a smell in the emptiness. there is a vastness that can't be seen. so you stop by any means necessary. you apply a tourniquet and you hope. you hope the voices, the faces, the bleeding all stop so that you can hear, live and move on. you hope that death does matter, that you are old enough to understand that death does matter. suicide is easy. believing is hard. so you make it stop. there is a place between acceptance and hope that all of us fears. there is a place where we are useless but still want to exist, for ourselves.

i hear nicks voice ordering me not to cut. i see eduardo on the street stopping me, telling me how angry he will be. i see daniel kissing me because he thinks he will never see me again. i see jake forcing me away for fear i wont live another day. you treat the immediate. treat the bleeding. dont ever look back.

there are too many secrets.

i was born singing a song of loss. can you imagine what else we were born knowing?

it is easier to die in belief than to live in fear. knowing only ever hurts the cause.