death?

for fourteen fucking years, i've had the same images stuck in my head.
for fourteen years, i still wake up in the dead of night in the summer and see the horse, the stable, the bright red water pump in the backyard.
everything is so clear to me, it's like i'm 6 again.
then i blink and it's gone.
for fourteen years, i have seen the night he died behind my eyelids.
the lights / shadows, sounds / stillness, the pacing of his feet / the tranquility of him.
for fourteen years, i wished i was a child... that i never experienced death or sorrow or pain until i was at least old enough to understand them.

you have no idea why i am the way that i am - and that's my fault. i think about death everyday. it's not some morbid fascination; it's just reality. i know some people can't talk about it without getting choked up but that's not me. the only way i get to see him again is by those thoughts but they also haunt me.
there's no way to have your cake and eat it too.

ever wonder why i'm so stubborn? or why i just can't let somethings [or some people] go?

he's why. he taught me to never give up on what i believe in. he also broke my heart. but i wouldn't have it any other way.

i'd rather remember my grandfather with beauty and pain than be numbed by some bullshit drugs [legal or illegal]. the scariest fear i have is not experiencing life as i want it, not dying. you never hear the shot that kills you. living without ambitions is the real tear-jerker here.

i don't want your pity. i can't stand fake people.
i just want you to know. trying to get into my head is really all i can offer.

all we have is what we perceive. we decide what is real and what isn't. it's all subjective. that's all i'm saying. and you can't judge what i don't confess, so i don't.