NaPoWriMo - day #11

I have been searching for a desperate state of honesty.
The kind that will allow me to chisel away
at the rubble laid deep in my chest. A cold cement
that keeps me quiet, contained, afraid. Paralysis is
laid at the hands of fear disguised as protection.

I fantasize about the weight being lifted
and destroyed in a frenzy.

In my fantasies, these moments will attack
my home made heartache, swing after brutal swing
with a hammer I build myself. Moment by moment
I will live like this because this feeling inside
has been home for too long. 

Do you see tears running down my face?
I am so often drowning that 
I can hardly feel them myself. 

But when the battle is over, the rocks inside me
will disintegrate into fine powder and exit peacefully
out my ears holes and eye sockets. 
The dust will settle easy.

You will hear my healing.
Like remnants of an abandoned construction site,
left untouched longer than I'm proud to admit
but with a light that still comes on when the sun goes down. 
I think, then, I will breathe again.