spoiler alert: they died unsaid
and now every day when i wake up and walk to my coffee pot
i step over the fresh soil where they’ve been laid to rest.
my good judgment is somewhere six feet under.
sometimes i think i’m here to resuscitate the soul ties between other people that aren’t me.
as if i bloat their veins with my blood and bring their love back to life,
remove the butterfly needle from my arm,
and suddenly i’m no longer connected,
and suddenly i’m alone again.
a bullet point on the list:
· i just want to help and i want y’all to be happy
after, whispering, in parentheses:
(but i can’t promise i can be there for that)
when you give it some thought, it’s beautiful how everyone observes a day so differently. perspectives can shift and align and disintegrate. and maybe everything is one big fucking lie. maybe chances run out. but i think, and i think about this every day in every decision i make and in everything i do, that you have to meet people where they are. and not everyone will always understand. and you have to set your own boundaries based on the user manual that coincides with how you operate. and not everybody operates the same way.
we are all so beautiful in that way. we are all at war with each other and ourselves in that way.
you know it’s bad when you don’t want to tell your friends. you figure their systems won’t catalogue every pixel like you do. you tell yourself you can see in four thousand.
my friends will tell me i’m used up. my friends will tell me i’m settling.
two bullet points on the list:
· i feel like a casualty in a mess i did not make
· i feel like a casualty rather than a priority
there are only so many times someone can put themselves in the line of fire before they’re just scoring their own slaughter.
a bullet point on the list:
· i wanted us to rebuild a world of our own again
i am selfish.
and i want.
and i’m sorry.
a bullet point on the list:
· i don’t want to hear about how much you love her
because i love her and i want to keep loving her
and because the last one loved her too
mad gets attention. mad demands guilt. mad elicits a fight and makes everything feel heightened and war-torn and urgent and significant and something out of a hans zimmer film score and maybe i should be mad more often.
i spent so many years of my life angry – i removed the hardware from my nervous system.
three pieces of my original makeup missing from my body: tonsils, appendix, anger.
for better or for worse, i don’t know, but i won’t be mad either way.
the three most theatrical and gratuitous bullet points on the list:
· i just want someone to care
· i feel small and unimportant
· why does no one choose me
girl, relax
a bullet point on the list:
· i just wanted you to show up
it’s selfish, really, the way i’m always waiting for someone to show up at my door despite keeping that expectation to myself. i’ve been told i sometimes assume people can read my mind. i talk about my everyday nags but i won’t mention the panic attacks or the pills or the crippling fear that i’m in collapse. i just keep hoping that one day someone will show up at my door with fall flowers and a slice of pie and we’ll watch something comfortable on my pink couch and maybe i’ll let myself cry this time.
“nobody thinks i’m special yet
nobody thinks i’m special yet”
i will watch the deadly current from my front steps alone. i will hustle in stillness and pretend like i don’t care. i will slather numbing potion on my back and pretend the blade is another tattoo needle. i would rather save reality for someone who will help me tie the tourniquet.
a bullet point on the list:
· be honest – never, ever lie to me again
i lie to myself every damn day.
and i’d be lying if i said i don’t think i’ll always be alone
and i’d be lying if i said i wouldn’t do it all again
and i’d be lying if i told myself everything is ok
and i’d be lying if i said i’m not scared of you
and i’d be lying if i said my heart isn’t broken
and i’d be lying if i said i don’t wish it was me
for once who felt loved
and i’ve lied and i lied and i’ll lie again.
a bullet point crumpled away in my brain:
· i’ll keep waiting by the front door
just in case