if you can see the light through the window …

“i hope you find this.

i hope you read this.

because i’m writing this for you.

because i’ve been there.

because i know

what it feels like

to lay broken in porcelain pieces at 4 am on the bathroom floor.”

are you up?

are you on your

phone?

you can’t sleep?

are you

okay?

have the thoughts stopped?

are you rubbing lotion lovingly on your precious skin?

not cutting

not scratching

it.

is it there right now – the emptiness?

i know it.

it’s vast and deep and cold and endless, yet it seems to fit inside your body,

that dark vacuum.

the only sensation you feel

the anesthetic numbing tingle,

the

event

horizon

of your

emptiness.

sometimes it is the only way to check if you’re still

alive.

if you are up,

and you don’t know what to do,

i hope you find this.

i hope you read this.

because i’m writing this for you.

because i’ve been there.

because i know

what it feels like

to lay broken in porcelain pieces at 4 am on the bathroom floor.

i want you to read this.

i want you to know i’m serious.

i am here for you.

for as fast as i can write and talk and text to cause you anxiety

i can be funny.

i can make you laugh.

or if the burden in the center of you is stone,

in your heart,

in your mind,

in your soul,

is so heavy

you can barely breathe,

then we don’t have to talk,

we can just sit.

we can just be.

if you can get up,

if you can get out of bed,

if you can drive,

come over.

there are pillows here,

blankets,

plenty of movies to watch.

plenty of books to read.

plenty of music to listen to.

you will be safe here.

you will be safe with me.

i know,

it’s not a cure.

it’s a respite.

it’s a Healing Home,

The Last Homely House,

it’s a small break, a waystation on your journey, that ends in you getting better.

i know it.

and i know the thoughts, too,

i know the sucking pull of gravity,

the cruelty of inertia,

the ache of death,

the emptiness of loss,

the ache of mental illness.

the thoughts,

the thoughts,

those fucking thoughts.

just don’t be afraid.

i know.

i understand.

just talk.

just be quiet.

just be.

be.

just be.

breathe.

do not fall.

do not fade.

just be.

it can get better.

it will get better.

just be here with me if you need strength.

i’ll gladly give you mine,

or I’ll be with you – just call, text, message.

just please,

do this:

breathe.

just please,

understand this:

it will get better.

just please,

know this:

you

are

not

alone.

Window Light