Hey girl. Yeah, you. You probably don't see me. At least not the way I see you. There's some confusion as to my whirlwind of feelings spiraling around me. But I'm not lost. I know exactly where I am in this tornado of it all, but I also know, I am not where I want to be. 

Feelings create a rush of emotions, both good and bad that sometimes throw you off the road you planned on taking. Do you remember the countryside house with the white picket fence everyone talked about? I'm sure you've talked about it too. Dreamed about it even. But then they nightmares come. Reality. Swirling between rape and trauma. The things you've seen cannot be unseen. The things you feel are only pushed away until the fatigue overcomes and the dreams show your true thoughts.

Death, accidents, touch. Flashbacks, real and fake. They all seem to blend together. But between all of the "tough guy" acts, you are scared. Guns, knives, 911. Those are your walls. You are strong-willed and beautiful, but everyone has a weakness. Let me in. Let me see. I can't promise to understand, but I can promise to comfort, console, and hold a soft place open in my arms when you need it most.

Society. Judgemental, and changing: always. I want you to know that I'm scared too. But for different reasons. I look at your face, hollowed of joy from the ungodly experiences that plague your past. I want to consume them, and take over the pain so you no longer have to feel it. But, at the same time I wish I could send away all of our problems, like I am blowing kisses in the wind, because society is mean and I am not ready to face them. Are you?

Hey girl. Yeah, you. You probably don't see me. At least not the way I see you. There's some confusion as to my whirlwind of feelings spiraling around me. But I'm not lost. I know exactly where I am in this tornado of it all, but I also know, I am not where I want to be. But someday, I will be.