Closed Windows

I'm 10.

It's a warm summer's day. So much brightness. 

I'm riding in the back seat of the car as mom and dad

happily hum to whatever's playing on the radio, 

with my brother next to me excitedly yelling at his 

Nintendo DS, dramatically waving his fists to the sky

in frustration. The windows are all rolled down,

filling the car with the smell of freshly cut grass.

My eyes are closed, head leaned to the side, letting

the warmth of the sun kiss my face while the

gentle breeze caresses it. I let my arm hang out of

the window, my hand floating in the air like a surfer 

on calm waters.

Peaceful. 

I'm 22.

It's an overcast summer's day. So much humidity.

I'm riding in the passenger seat of the car as my mom

drives in silence, apart from the humming of the air

conditioning. She has a headache. My brother is in the

back seat, body hunched over, face buried in his phone.

Mindlessly scrolling. The windows are all up, and all I

can smell is the stench of a road-killed skunk seeping

through the vents. My tired eyes fight to stay open as my

head slumps back onto the headrest. Dark shaded

glasses conceal my face. Hands restlessly fidgeting

in my lap.

Anxious.

And I was so quick to grow up.

(b.m.)

Shadowed Identity

How did I get here, 

in this place so void of hope and joy? 

What once was light is now dark 

and all I can see is pain as stark as the stars 

in the night's sky. 

The fatigue plaguing my bones is what this illness does, 

making everything feel like this hazy fuzz and

I'm nothing but a shadow of what I once

was.

The magic blue pills that my doctor prescribed 

are supposed to help with this pain I've described

but it's hard to fix what's buried so very deep 

inside.

So please, try to understand that when you tell me

"it's all in your head" as if that's the answer to 

all of this dread, that I want nothing more

than to be dead because I would be rich if I got a

penny for every time I have ever heard that said.

(b.m.)

The Climb

I've dug myself a monstrous hole,

Out of which I cannot climb.

The deeper I go, the darker my soul,

I fear I haven't much time. 

The light is moving further away,

As I reach my hands in vain.

I kick and scream for some delay,

But I'm met with only pain.

Void of hope, I fall to my knees,

And touch my hands to pray.

Desperate to put my mind at ease,

To whom, I know not, I say:

I've lived my life as best I could, kind to those I've crossed.

Saving animals as Irwin would, no matter the risk (or cost).

I hope when people think of me, they remember only the best.

If only but a smiling Bri, as bright as lemon zest.

My love for you will never fade, wherever this journey ends.

There's nothing I would ever trade, in place of family and friends.

The light above is all but gone, I've used up all my time.

Someday soon will come the dawn, and out of this hole I'll climb.

Out of this hole I'll climb.

(b.m.)

My God, I Pray

As the days grow shorter, and the nights colder;

there is something coming near.

As if my soul knows, an anxiousness grows;

'waken is a chilling fear.

The leaves begin to fall, and birds cease to call;

a darkness consumes the land.

Tired are my eyes, as loneliness arrives;

the silence I cannot stand.

Passed are the days, of warmth and rays;

in charge is now the moon.

But when she's gone, the monsters are drawn;

left empty are bodies strewn.

My mind is being lost, its price too high a cost;

heavy do thoughts of you weigh.

Betrayed was my heart, though it knew from the start;

never do loved ones stay.

Buried are words unsaid, fated as those now dead;

regret is the devil's delight.

 Before I die I hope to confess, the feelings I so cruelly suppress;

my God I pray to survive the night.

My God, I pray.

(b.m.)

Puzzle Pieces

It's three in the morning. The moonlight dances through the bathroom window, illuminating a tear-stained face through the darkness. Between the sobs sings a chorus of crickets and the bone-chilling "creeeek" of trees bellowing in the wind. I rest on my knees, and the chilled, ivory-colored tile kisses my skin, sending chills throughout my body. My destructive thoughts guided me here from the comfort of my bed like an insect beckoned to a light, and I am reduced to a hunched over figure on a cold bathroom floor.

I wrack my brain, blindly searching for answers among the sea of negativity being spewed from my consciousness. It turns a cold shoulder, and to no avail I am left hopelessly seeking guidance. A calming of the storm inside my head. And so I try my luck with a higher power. I plead to God, whispering my woes into the night. I say, with utter desperation, "God, please, help me to understand my purpose for this life. I feel that I have strayed from the path I once was on, and fear I have lost sight of where it is I should be heading. I feel as though I am now wandering, weakened and alone, through a maze with which there is no exit. One in which I've reached yet another dead end. Help me to understand..."

Moments later, an autumn breeze creeps through the slightly cracked window, and with it, carries in a soothing voice that caresses my ears. It says, softly, "My child, you wish to reach the finish line when you've barely just begun the race. Put simply, life is like a puzzle: as you learn, grow, and experience new aspects of life, you will collect pieces of yourself along the way. By themselves, these pieces are insignificant, failing to shed light on what it is you're looking to find. Slowly, but surely, they start to come together, piece-by-piece. By the end of your life, you will have a moment where you'll have the final piece, the one that fits just right, filling the last empty space. It's then that you will see it. You will see that every single moment of your life has created just that: a life. Every decision you make will guide you to where you wish to go, and so you are never truly lost...only on your way to discovering the next puzzle piece. You simply need the courage, and the patience, to finish it."

Just as it had traveled in, the voice faded away with the breeze, surely off to console some other sad soul praying for an answer to their own questions. A sudden stillness washed over me as I left the numbing tile and climbed back into the warmth of my bed. For the first time in as far back as I can remember, I am lulled into a peaceful sleep, comforted with the belief of surviving the day to come, and every one to follow.

Someday I will complete the puzzle...

Someday.

(b.m.)

But,

A galaxy full of stars,
    each shining an
eternal light.
    But,
how lonely is Mars,
    surrounded by
eternal night.

A planet full of souls,
    each thriving on
the highs of life.
    But,
how gaping are holes,
    created by
the lows of life.

A body full of cells,
    each unique to
my very self.
    But,
how sadness dwells,
    a burden on
my very health.

(b.m.)

Reflected

I stumbled upon this empty shell,

as I walked along the river.

Maybe it was the decaying smell,

that made my body shiver.

Something about it drew me near,

as I ventured beyond the trail.

Maybe it was the feeling of drear,

that made my skin go pale. 

Most beguiling was this ivory stone,

as my eyes became transfixed.

Maybe it was the stark white bone,

that made me so affixed.

I soon realized the connection,

as my chest welled up inside.

Maybe it's my own reflection,

that this empty shell implied.

-b.m.

Apart

I like to think of the moon

as a friend of mine,

when I'm lonely at night.

Even he's gone too soon

'cause of sunshine,

and her blinding light.

-b.m.

Drowning

I am floating in an endless sea,

Struggling to stay afloat,

Salt water filling my throat—

Oh god, how I wish to be free. 

The darkness soon consumes me,

Leaving emptiness in its wake,

A sadness I can't seem to shake—

Someone turn on the lights, I plea. 

It feels as though I've lost control,

Some may call it depressed,

This aching pain in my chest—

 Darkness is starting to take its toll. 

Sunny days are no longer my friend,

I converse with the thunder,

Rain eases me to slumber—

When will all of this bitterness end? 

How long this will last, I cannot say,

Only time can surely tell,

To break this awful spell—

An end to my drowning, I pray. 

-b.m.

Caress of Sleep

It's barely dawn as I begin to wake,
Caressed by the light of morn.
Outside sparrows claim their stake,
To return to slumber? I'm torn.

Sleep calls my name, a whisper at most,
her gentle touch tugs at my eyes.
Enveloping me, holding me close,
What wonderful dreams there lies.

The promise of morning fades away,
I leave the sparrows to their song.
The beckoning of sleep outweighs,
To her familiar warmth I belong.

-b.m.

A Little Faith

Good Evening, Moths. 

I've been on a rollercoaster of emotions as of late. I could be laughing so much that my cheeks hurt in one moment, and sink into a depressive state retreating to the safety of my bed within a matter of hours. A constant fluctuation between being on top of a mountain, looking out at the world, and sitting at the bottom of the sea, left alone to my thoughts. It's exhausting, really. I know you're all thinking, this sounds very saddening Bri, but as with everything else in life, there is a lesson to be learned from this, and a point to sharing these personal ups and downs. 

So, the topic I want to talk about tonight is the idea of the body as a temporary vessel, and how minuscule our time on earth is. This is not to say that what we do doesn't matter and that there's no point to life, so just bare with me and keep an open mind. I recently watched the movie "The Shack" (and by recent I mean just last night). If you've taken anything away from the posts I've written in the past, you can likely gather that I am an empathetic, emotional person. Usually (almost always) there will be a part in a movie that I will cry to, it's inevitable. Whether it be a happy ending, sad ending, and everything in between. What was special about this movie is that I was so invested, that I cried multiple times throughout. What's extra special about it is that the idea behind it is based on someone that lost their faith in God when something terrible happened in their life. 

Hold up, you're about to talk about religion?? 

I will tell you that despite having gone to church almost every Sunday growing up, I am not the most religious person. I don't study the bible or listen to scriptures on the radio in the morning. Because of my ecology background, I heavily learned about evolution growing up and for a while I was hard-headed on the idea of a "higher being" controlling all of life rather than just nature itself. I asked questions (and still ask) such as "why isn't there anything in the bible about dinosaurs" and  "how could a person be made using the rib of another??" As I've gotten older, I am a lot more open to the idea of God and wish to understand more. I know, it all seems confusing on where I stand as of now, but all I'm going to say is that I still believe in evolution and natural selection and all of that ecology jazz, but I accept the idea that there is something greater than we can ever imagine that lies beyond the earth. 

That brings me to my next point: we as humans aren't even close to being able to comprehend all that God and heaven may be. Just writing this post, I have a hard time finding the right words to convey my thoughts. "The Shack," although a movie, beautifully captures the hesitance of humans to accept that there is a God due to all of the hatred and violence and sin that happens every day. A common phrase skeptics use is "why would God let these bad things happen." I'll be honest, this was something that sat at the back of my mind when I went to church growing up, but the movie does a really beautiful job of reflecting this thought and creating a possible explanation for it. The idea is that everyone is God's children, and He/She loves all of them unconditionally, with no bias or hesitance. God, however, cannot stop bad things from happening. There will always be sin and bad things on earth. But as I mentioned earlier in this post, human life is temporary. 

Take for example, the movie. The onset of the skepticism and anger of the main character is that his young daughter was kidnapped and murdered while he was saving his other two kids from drowning in the lake they were camping by. As anyone else would have reacted, he went into a deep depression. How could such a horrible thing happen to this young, beautiful girl? More so, how could God let something like that happen to such an innocent soul. Yes, what happened was terrible, but this little girl, a child of God, will now spend the rest of eternity with God in a place where she will never feel pain, grief, fear, etc., again. A moment of horror will now equate to an eternity of happiness. When looking at it that way, her death isn't something to be mourned. The father will have to wait a little while until he can join her, but by the end he knows that they'll be together again in this eternal life, and the years he'll have to spend without her are nothing compared to the lifetime they'll spend.

Now how does this relate to me and my depression lately? When I stop and take a step back from my life, I realize one of two things: (1) what I'm feeling now won't last forever, and (2) by accepting God I will always be loved, and the short time that I have on earth will be nothing compared to what I have waiting for me after it's come to an end. It's almost a relief once you accept this. Like all of the struggles that I face/will face are so unsubstantial and no matter what failures I face or mistakes I make along the way, I will always be forgiven and loved unconditionally. The vulnerable human body with its sensations like hunger, cold, pain, heart ache, and exhaustion are all--yes I'm going to say it for the millionth time--TEMPORARY. Stop fretting over the little things, because the human lifespan is a blip compared to e t e r n i t y. It's almost the same as when we were babies, how we don't remember a single sensation or memory from it. The times we had to get our first shots or cried for hours for some forsaken reason (sorry mom and dad) were so minute that our brains didn't have the capacity to hold onto any of it. That's how this life will be when we are spending eternity with God. You will make it through this. I will make it through this.  

Have a little faith, moths. xoxo

Fleeting

I wish I could freeze a moment in time. Bottle up its essence. Revisit it at times when I feel life is too much to handle. When life seems like a never ending storm cloud. That moment, bottled up, would be like the sunshine peaking through. A reminder that even on the darkest of days, there is still light hidden underneath, waiting patiently to illuminate the sky.

But life is not all sunshine and rainbows.

These moments are so fleeting. So temporary. Once they're gone, we can't get them back. We can take pictures or videos, sure. They will live on as memories that we can look back on. But we will never be able to truly relive that utter happiness we had in our hearts that day, or the gut-wrenching laughter that poured out of us so effortlessly and uncontrollably as if nothing else in the world mattered. People change. Life moves on. That's the way it is. And once we're at the end of the road, greeting death as a forgotten friend we've been meaning to catch up with, we'll reflect on those moments we held onto so dearly. How precious they were. How fleeting the were.

How fucking fleeting they are.

-b.m.

Deep Down

It feels as though I'm deep under water, swimming to the surface, but

never

truly

reaching

the

air

.

.

.

that's what depression feels like

-b.m.

Thin Layer

Human life is such a fragile thing. A thin layer of skin lies between the outside world and our beating heart and breathing lungs and brittle bones. Filled with icy blue liquid that turns scarlet when it gets a taste of the stale air, as if in shock. Some veins are visible, pulsing with rhythmic elegance so poetic no pen nor paper on earth could condense it to mortal words.

Such a fragile thing.

A slip of a knife.
One too many pills.
A breath under water.
A broken heart.

Such a fragile thing.

Life.

And it hangs on such a thin thread. That threshold between life and death. Between breathing and being still. Between light and dark. Between being and having been. The craziest part? We have the power. The power to end it all. But we choose to continue on. The bravest thing anyone can possibly do. To get up every single morning and try. Try so damn hard. That's all we can really do, is try. Because there is no one on this earth that is winning at life. There is no peak existence. There is only making it to the end, when you've done all that you could do in a lifetime and have no more left to give to the world. That is when you have succeeded. So for now, just keep waking up in the morning. Keep making the most of what you can and striving for what it is you were put on this earth to do. Keep choosing life.

Keep living, moths. xoxo 

Brewing

Something is stirring from deep within;

My hands are shaking.

My body is quaking.

A storm is brewing beneath my skin.

Like a dormant volcano inactive for years;

The pressure is building.

The air is chilling.

Threatening to erupt are my deepest fears.

The explosion, by nature, is cruel and relentless;

The screams are shattering.

The tremors are battering.

The victim, my spirit, is weak and defenseless. 

The screaming hushes and the shaking stills;

My soul is hollowed.

Then darkness follows.

Hauntingly silent, my loneliness kills.

Back to dormancy, I quiet once more;

The smoke clears.

Dried are the tears.

How long it will last, I cannot be sure.

I cannot be sure.

-b.m.

twenty one years

twenty one years i have lived.

i have grown.

have felt.

twenty one years i have not found love.

i have not received love.

have not made love.

twenty one years my heart has waited.

my heart has ached.

has yearned.

twenty one years of being polite.

of being supportive.

being patient.

twenty one years of suppressed words.

of suppressed feelings.

suppressed desires.

twenty one years without your eyes on mine.

without your hands on mine.

your lips on mine.

.

.

what will the next twenty one bring?

-b.m.

Fallen Star

What a heartbreaking thing,

For an asteroid or comet.

Once above as a mighty king,

Now a rock so common. 

I wish I was on the moon,

Dancing among the stars.

I'd fly up like a balloon, 

Take a scenic route past Mars.

Up there I'd be alive and free,

Away from this horrible place.

Think how wonderful it would be,

Floating peacefully in space.

Here my soul is constrained,

Weighed down by gravity.

To the earth it is chained,

Dreaming of the galaxy.

You see I'm simply not meant,

To flourish within this planet.

Patiently awaiting my ascent,

For now I am all but stranded.

-b.m. 

Fragile

A storm rages, growing in force,

the winds a haunting moan.

Mother nature the very source,

her tortured woes unknown.

The sky darkens, trees sway,

birds no longer singing.

No further shall the storm delay,

to unleash the hell it's bringing.

A similar storm wages on,

consuming my ethereal light.

My spirit's like a fragile fawn,

paralyzed by crippling fright.

Don't fret, for the light is strong,

keeping the dark at bay.

Only time will tell how long,

for that, I can only pray.

-b.m.