It went like this,

         like it has before and will again;

             shattered thought for a split second fell

       into place,

           all the pieces lining up perfect and seamless;

    In a flash of holy light

               I am broken before appalling truths.

        And like that I'm blinded

             left scrambling to to gather shards of reality

        before they all slip away into what-ifs.

                      In a state where everything breaks me,

           my guard is always up and impenetrable;

                   I see you all standing so tall with your straight backs,

        and I know by now that you are not what you seem,

                        but please, please stand

               and don't just stand there;

                               strength and bravery will deliver.

         And I hope my walls crumble someday

               and save me

               instead of me crumbling

                      to save my painfully built-up walls.

Currently Listening In the Reins By Iron & Wine, Calexico see related

            The sound of you in silence

                    dragged rip-roaring through my head

          ending only in scattered light,

                              in mad contempt of your contempt.

                Don't you know the subtle

                      way in which to overcome?

         I kept you tame

                                with things I didn't say,

                 drove you mad with secret eyes

                        and gave you faith,

         had you praying

                                      that I wouldn't give you away.

                       An after-the-fact passion

                         is our fuel for peace of mind,

        clinging tight

                            because we are each so strange

                    to the other.

                                The sound of you in silence,

                          your resentment of poetry

                                           and refusal to articulate,

                                   be it lies or painfull truth,

                           be it anything

                                         yours, that you've created,

                                Well 

                                          you shatter 

                                                     the looking-glass

                                     with simple lack of noise and color.

            In circles with you

                I am dizzy,

                    a disgrace to my own standards.

                In such a muted state I must be dying;

                                                          I should hurry

                                                                on my way.