The Mind
Plot Twist
She never made it out of there alive,|
She’s really been dead for years.
There’s a Pill for That
Take this one, gain ten pounds you can never lose. Then there’s the one that will make it so you can’t feel anything. Next the one that turns every morning to the day after a party, except you weren’t invited to that part. I want to pull out my hair, I’m so frustrated with all these pills.
Lucky for me, this one pulls my hair out for me.
Guts
I over analyze every little thing you do. If you give my comment a like and not a heart, I think it’s over. I hate Facebook.
When time passes for me but not for others, you talked to her so why haven’t I heard from you? I hate the way my heart wants to keep score.
Then I play “what if” by myself, and I always lose. I hate the way my mind rolls downhill and picks up every possible worst-case scenario that has ever or will ever exist in the minds of anxious girlfriends.
Then I start to cry. I hate that I have a playlist called “crying” and it’s the one I listen to most.
Then my heart beats faster when you do write, I smile so big when I see your face. I hate that I’m falling so hard.
Trying to be strong and beautiful and happy and supportive, is so tiring. I hate that I already feel the heartache of losing you.
I just wish I could stop worrying all the time or if not that, be okay when you inevitably decide you are tired of me. But that worry and pain just sit in the pit of my stomach while I cry alone.
I hate my guts.
Gone Girl
I would give
And give
And give
Until there was nothing left
Except. I’m Already Gone
Keeping Score
I’m not depressed I’m not in a funk that’s sure to drift away once I decided to move on. How do you move on when your body carries the memory of each touch inside itself? It remembers even when I forget
There’s this game I play sometimes I try and decide what’s better, the symptoms of you or the side effects.
I always end up with a fistful of both, a mouthful of blood from biting my tongue.
I remember missing you.
That Girl
You know in movies and TV shows, there’s that one girl who is “worth fighting for.” It’s not a fairytale romance it’s more. It’s real. It’s simple.
When he thinks he might lose her, he finds some way to get to her. He shows up, Outside with a boombox over head, Or at the front door in the rain.
What does it take to be that girl? What does it take to find someone who even notices he has something to lose?
No Sleep
It’s 10 pm and I can’t sleep, again for you, it’s almost morning but that’s the problem, isn’t it? My night and your day are worlds apart and I won’t ever wake up until you are long gone.
He said, She said
I can picture it now, He’ll say, “You promised you wouldn’t disappear; where did you go?” And I’ll say, “You promised you would keep me safe, so why are you holding that gun?” He won’t respond,
He won’t have to.
Bang!
My Memory
I’ve scrubbed you from the memory of every chat log, email, and call. There was never a photograph to burn, no gifts exchanged to throw away. I’ve wiped you clean from everything I touch except inside of me. That I can’t seem to reach. I can’t get you out. And now it’s all that’s left.
And So On
I can’t remember your face but it’s all I think about these days. These days, I can’t see anything else. I guess that makes me blind. What if it’s my lack of vision that pulls the next one in?
And the one after that...
And the next one too.
Five Days to Go
I fucking hate March 9th. I wish daylight savings would swallow it whole. I think it’s just my life that will be swallowed this time. Maybe you’ll be down there too? I guess that’s why bad men always break my heart. I wish myself alone with them down in darkness. Only he was never with me, even before March 9th.
Why is it I can never seem to hate you?
Music
I can’t sleep......again
The song “Wicked Games” keeps playing over and over in my mind. I love that song but I hate what it means after you.
It’s 4am and I know, I’m just up now.
The song “Afraid” is now on repeat, this seemingly endless playlist of; you fail at your job, you have no friends, you’re fat, you’re ugly, you’ll always be alone.
Fuck, even the ones that “moved on” are STILL in and out of my thoughts like a revolving door of games and bull shit.
And that song from The Office starts up. The one that says, I’ll never be loved. And then his voice.
“Not good enough, not worth fighting for.”
I know that song by heart.
Now it’s 4:26 am, and all I want to do is wake up from this nightmare and find you lying next to me.
I can’t sleep,
and I can’t wake up. I can’t even do anxiety right. Do you hear that?
“Creep” by Radiohead
Him/You
When I say “him” I mean the actual devil. The one I spent years with. Sleeping in my bed, rewiring my mind, breaking my body.
When I say “you” See, that one changes. You are the endless cycle of the lesser demons that come around to ensure his work can’t be undone.
What never changes, You will never see these words. It’s the part that stings the most. Eventually, you leave without a trace.
Never even saying goodbye. Maybe you are the devil, too, just in a different shape. And I never can say goodbye myself. I don’t know who taught me that.
Him or you
Sick
It makes me sick to think about you, and just as bad to know you don’t think about me anymore.
Looking at your name, the last words you said...
Why can’t I just erase the memory of you? Why does my mind hold onto you, like it’s an old schoolhouse chalkboard and you cling to me in faded smoke, just enough that I can’t forget your name.
And I want to forget.
Every memory of every time you told me I was special, every lie, all the moments I dreamed you were real...It makes me sick that I still wish you back in the same heartbeat that I wish you away. I’m sick with missing you. I hate this, but I still don’t hate you.
Poem 1
Being with you made me feel crazy. Without you is worse.
Poem 2
I keep searching for a new you,
But all I find is myself,
Alone.
I miss hearing your voice and dreaming up the ways things would be when I finally found you.
It’s more than the ocean that’s between us now.
I bet you don’t even remember my name or think of me.
I hate missing you.
The Spiral
It’s funny, or maybe crazy, how quickly happiness turns to hope. All it takes is one kind word, one little conversation, and I transform into a believer. One day of silence, and it fades a little.
And a little more,
And a little more.
It’s funny or maybe crazy, how quick hope turns to maybe, turns to doubt, turns to tears, turns to nothing. Then here I lay, wishing I could just fall asleep
Always filling that desperate craving.
And never wake up.
Another, Other Woman
Just because you cover my eyes doesn’t mean I can’t see. This masquerade where you think she’s well hidden, but I already saw behind the curtain. Mistrust is a bell you can’t un-ring.
Repetition
How many does this make it? Honestly, I’ve lost count. And once I stop counting, I might as well stop trying. Forever a magnet for bad men who will never love me.
Hint
I can take a hint....I just don’t want to. Just say one thing to make me think “maybe” and I’m yours all over again.
You
Some dreams I never want to wake up from. Unless you’ll still be there
PTSD
I keep wishing away time with worry. Every movement, the way you sit and stand and breathe, and swallow are constantly under my panicked analysis.
I lose day after day, crying about the last that hasn’t come. The pain of the fear of losing you is so grave, I already can’t breathe without you.
And that’s with you beside me. I just hope I never love like this again. I don’t even believe I will survive it the first time.
In fact, I hope I don’t. You are my peace.
The Lie
I’m starting to forget the feel of your arm around my shoulder. The way I feel when your eyes locked with mine. The way you laugh when I’m sarcastic. Most of all, I can’t remember why I want you.
I can’t stop forgetting.
Reminder
I didn’t need any help, I remember just fine how unwanted, unworthy, and untouchable I am. My days were already about finding things I like other than death, and what’s a little more pain to top it off.
Unrequited You
Remember that one time, you fell right on your face in love with a man who would never love you back.
How he said the right things at the right time. How easily his words melted your resolve? How he checked every red-flag box?
Do you remember the way the pit of your stomach became less hollow, filled to the brim with butterflies and dreams. How every piece of you you gave away and all that was left was a box of dead butterflies.
Remember.
I remember when I used to be you. And you are about to become me again. It was less lonely living with the devil, but if I give in to the heat, he may find me again.
Whenever
It’s when the pain hits my guts that I know it’s been too long. These things have been swirling inside and shaking my foundation.
Maybe it’s drastic, but I just want to be rid of it. If I hold still, will you cut it out of me?
Without
I can’t go another night without you. I wake up shaking, and my thoughts, racing. Maybe if I block you out of my life, like I did with him, maybe this will die faster.
My body can’t be without you if my mind won’t leave you alone.
Chemistry
There’s no reason for me to think this much about you. I’m not a matter of importance. It comes from a place of urning, wanting to conquer
Is it the obsession I’m craving or just a box to check on a list? Would you tell me if you knew? Do you know? Do you know what you want?
There’s a saying that I always thought was silly, but I think I get it now. This changed my brain chemistry.
Truck
When trauma puts on its favorite hat and parades around like it’s not trauma at all but depression. But not just any depression. We’re talking the mac-truck of depression .
I can’t help but play too. Staring at the wall, crying until the blood vessels under my eye burst and tiny red dots pepper my cheeks.
Laying on my bed in the dark, begging the universe to let someone hold me again, just one more time. I’m dying of a lack of love, which is really another of saying a lack of touch. I long to be touched.
And my mind buzzing as my body stands still. You failed her, your fat, your ugly, your ruined. Everything is crumbling, and all you do is stand there holding the bag. My bag is empty. And I can’t save her if I don’t save myself.
I ruin everything I touch. No wonder I can’t ever seem to find open arms
