I Have An Issue With Facing Things Head On

I’m happy for you

You stop caring and I’m happy for you. I’m not someone worth thinking about anymore really.

I hold a lot of baggage and that’s something you don’t need right now. Or ever.

So I’ll be happy for you because I think being away from me is the best that life will give you.

and I’m a lot, I know. And I’m sorry.

Depression makes me feel like a dull knife, you know you can still use it but it’s still dull even after it’s sharpened. Try as much as you can, use as much force as you need but the knife will always be, dull. Maybe you’re too lazy to sharpen it thoroughly, maybe you’re too attached to let it go. So it sits there. In your drawer beside the newly sharpened knives, unused, useless, and there in memoriam.

I had assumed

My bad— I had assumed we were closer than I thought we were. nights holding hands as the cold air crisped our noses, tears running down my face, arms intertwined, and your jacket on my shoulders.

I’m sorry— I had assumed we were close. nights crying on the phone until the sun rose to remind us to go back to bed. nights on the bench crying until 3am because he dumped you for another athlete.

I fear— I’ve assumed we were close. days sitting on the grass unveiling our fears that we’ve never told anyone else. laughing until we told ourselves it’s not worth it to k-ll ourselves right now.

I didn’t know— we weren’t as close as you said we were. And I’m sorry, I didn’t catch myself sooner.

Some days..

Some days I can’t move. I stare at the wall waiting for the floor to crumble beneath me to just end my misery.

I fantasize of walking into an icy cold river, rocks in my pockets, & dried flowers in my hair. Hoping, that it’ll just end my misery.

But then there’s a voice, screaming out my name on green covered hills. Praying, I make it back alive. The echoes ricocheting in my ears.

And I follow the soft voice waiting for me on the other side. Promising her that I’ll meet her in confidence one day.

I walk underneath your shadow

no matter where I walk it's under your shadow. right beneath yours, intertwined. I don't know whether to be grateful or not. whether or not it's something I need. but on days where I need your shadow to keep me away from the sun, you walk a little farther, never there when I need it most. these days it seems that through distance, as you walk each step a little faster and farther, I can no longer feel your warmth. and your shadow has been making me feel colder. so maybe it's time to just stop moving and let your shadow walk alone. because I think I'm ready for this shadow to finally be my own.

Hey, you’re awesome and I just want you know that! OKbye!

💗

It’s easy to say

It’s easy to say I hope you’ve been well, than calling me up and having a meaningful conversation. It’s easy to say I support you, than showing up on the night of my performance. It’s easy to tell everyone that you know me, than actually knowing how I'm doing that day. It’s easy to say I hope you had a good day, than asking how my day went. It's easy to say I hope you get better, than supporting me on each step of the way. But I'd like to think loving me would be easy.

Nightmares

Some nights I have the most vivid nightmares and I can’t tell if they’re memories from the past or wicked hypotheses about what tomorrow will look like if I continue the way that I am the dreams hurt, like cuts on my arm that only I can see. scars burned white with every itch maybe i'm broken, truly, unbelievably broken.

and I have no one to blame but myself

I skipped so that you could have it

I skipped lunch because this week we couldn't afford groceries, so i put back the butter on the conveyer belt so it wouldn't scan towards the $10 i had in my pocket. I skipped breakfast and lunch so they wouldn't worry about how many bowls they had left for dinner, as my stomach ached in pain and I could feel it in my throat. my stomach turned itself around until I had to lay back down to be able to feel the ground again. head reeling, face flushed, and eyes rolling over until the dizziness made me feel numb. i skipped the thought of wanting to eat so no one would worry if the food was about to go to waste, and be wasted on me particularly. how many bowls until i'm actually done with the thought of having to think about the next bowl and how many bowls we could have altogether.

I remember

I remember how he looked, his hand on my bed and the other on my shoulder. His yellowed thick smile laced with the smell of beer and sweat.

I remember the words whispering out of his mouth, silent and slow— as the door remained locked. My anxiety creeping up above my shoulders and staying constant in my bones.

I was four, I was nine, I was ten, I was thirteen, I was twenty-one.

I was twenty-two,

I remember a cop ever so silently looking me up & down. My anxiety shaking my hands and reeling my stomach into itself.

I remember, everyday, I remember.