Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Tamara Fraser Aug 2016
Come with me, all my loves,

all my heart pieces;

scattered away on winds and rain,

and let me show you something.

Insatiable, hungry, ravenous for cravings

until satisfied and full.


I’m afraid to say,

you are my distraction.

A ceaseless focal point, somewhere to extend my energies, someone to

take care of because I can’t do it for myself.

I can’t take care of myself, I just live on a perpetual ride;

up down round twist loop repeat.


You’re my own heart, of sorts.

I try to nurture, comfort, maintain, strengthen, clean and bathe,

heal you.

Everything I’m denied for myself I place in you;

and the cruelest heart you are when you neglect me, run frightened of me,

abandon and relinquish me.

You never once were grateful for the fresh blood I gave you.


You remind me to forget about hating myself, for a time.

You make the bad shadow go away.

It feeds on me in the lonely hours, when I’m not doing something,

with someone, being wholly somewhere else.


When I’m trying to leave the cycle of rises and drops…

it finds me.

It puts a hood over me.

I can’t see or sense a thing.

My head is so heavy it’s my own body weight.

You ask me what is wrong, and I can only shape a blank, cold slate.

Blank.

Disorientated and battered, I’m so frightened of the blank space in my head.

What was there before?

What was going to be there?


I need you to show me how to feel this,

how to love myself, you, believe, speak, explore, rise and climb,

so I know I can feel it for myself.

People tell me I can only love someone, when I can love myself firstly.

But I don’t know how that’s possible,

I DON’T KNOW WHAT THAT IS.

That is why I cling so ardently, and why I need so many of you.


I can deal with hell all day everyday, and I do.

That’s what this is like.

I can develop a mechanism

to survive the hellish torment,

but the unpredictability is what

gets me every time.

— The End —