When I was in kindergarten we had a party and
I ate too much candy.
My stomach ached and
I didn’t know why.
It ruined the party for me.
I remember crouching in the corner confused,
Closing my eyes, imagining that I could
Peer deep inside of myself.
It was then that I came to the childish conclusion that there was a ghost inside of me.
That’s what was causing the pain.
I focused my mind on wishing the ghost away.
I might have even prayed.
Until eventually the pain subsided and the ghost went away

I grew older, eventually, and realized that none of that was real.

Then I grew older still, slowly, and realized that it was all true after all.
That the ghost inside of me was real.
That it never left.

She had no mirrors in her house when I met her so
Ourselves we never could see.
But I knew that I loved her.
And she knew that she loved me.

I’ve finally realized
what it is to be an American,
I think.

To gaze upon all this progress,
to live within the midst of all this cleverness
and wealth,
and without a dollar
in your pocket
to finally start asking yourself those overwhelmingly obvious questions:

what was all this for?
To what greater purpose did I suffer so much?
…and why?

That man
Bipolar type 1

with all those countless
razor blade scars
turned out to be not very well
emotionally adjusted?
Kind of a self-involved *******?

Who could have ******* guessed!?
Meanwhile,
how’s your psychology PhD going?

I’m not a monster
just because
I broke your heart.

You broke mine too.

I don’t need friends
I’ve got myself.
But god I wish
I was someone else.

Alcohol antipathy
OxyContin apathy
Razor blades on bathroom floors
Xanax bars and so much more

Screaming cursing down the hall
Bodies slammed into the walls
******* kid just **** yourself
Never said that go to hell

A broken man with nightmare sleep
Love and trust and shattered dreams
There’s your ******* legacy:
All the ways you ruined me