This Floor 10/14

Birds chirping.
Wind blowing.
Mind racing.
Thoughts penetrating.
Deep into my heart and soul.
Ripping me apart until I'm lying all over this floor.
Reaching for the door.
Any door.
But instead,
I just lay on this floor.
With nothing to console.
Nothing to heal what's broken.
No medicine.
Just massive pain.
Searching desperately for things to accumulate.
To make me feel complete.
But even religion has yet to bring me release.
I'm lost and in desperate need.
Of a road sign.
A mile post.
A familiar face.
That I thought I needed most.
But that's in fact why I am lost.
Your face is distracting
I'm starting to panic.
I'm over reacting.
Like I should.
Because this is my life,
And I'm not even in control.
My heart lives somewhere else.
I'm constantly chasing it.
Trying to steal it back.
Like I'm playing a game of capture the flag.
I scream for release.
I pray for answers.
I passionately write about these experience's,
Because I know, you know.
You can feel it.
Some of you too,
Are living this.
Looking for luck like I'm gazing on stars.
That are light years away.
So far.
I'm running out of words to say in this moment.
Its hard to feel hopeful.
I just want to explode.
I then think about my little girl.
This fight is worth every second,
If I can teach her even one of these lessons.
My best friend.
And she's only 4 years old.
Incapable of selfishness or hatred.
Incapable of not loving you until its too late.
It was unconditional from the beginning.
My knees are aching.
My heart is beyond the point of breaking.
Its shattered all over this floor that I'm lying on.
Listening to music.
To bring some sort of comfort.
A boat in this raging storm.
A place to stay dry.
A place to wipe the tears from my own eyes.
Just how it has always been.
Before my daughter,
I was my best friend.
Spending far too much time alone.
More than some grown adults.
When I was a child.
Developing.
Developing into this broken person who fights everyday.
For the life that she knows she deserves.
She fights for a reason.
No matter how hard it is on bad days,
I will always tell myself I cannot return.
Its not an option.
Its never too late.
Get up.
And refuse to be broken.
Let life take you to places that force you to grow.
Let the pain out.
Let it show.
Be proud of it.
Because of it,
Your knowledge has tripled.
So as strange as it may be,
Be grateful for it.
All of it.
Especially the pain.
Without it,
Life and you,
Would never be the same.
There would be no incentive.
To live to the fullest.
Every single day.
Living like you are running out of them.