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I tell myself I don’t want him,
I tell myself,
I tell myself
But then I cry so hard
Going in reverse to a place that I’ve never yet been.

It’s supposed to get easier,
That’s what they tell you,
But this is only ever weighing heavier.
I could try to be what I imagine you’d have wanted,
But why should your mistakes make me feel ashamed?
And because of my existence I never
Want to give you what you want.

I guess I should hide the anger from my eyes,
But why prevent it when all you feel is volatile and pathetic?
Complaints when I hold it in and accusations when I don’t,
Sometimes I feel I should just hold kindness for myself.

When I have time I feel exhausted,
Later I feel like a failure to have let him win again:
It shouldn’t matter,
It shouldn’t matter.
They’d probably tell me negative affirmations don’t work,
Except to me they’re stating positives.
I’m trying to make it okay,
I’m trying to be better.

Always, I say, I don’t want him
And now his nonexistent thoughts won’t go away,
It must be my fault for becoming upset because really he’s done nothing
(Even if I can’t claim that without my own blood boiling),
Teasing myself with non-realities, with fairytales and broken dreams of a type of heaven I will never see.

My small voice murmurs,
“I want it, please.”
My brain tells me it would be better not to breathe.
In the dark it likes to help me,
Supporting in my self-destruction,
Simply because why shouldn’t it?
It’s a weapon I can use to back up anything no matter the relevance.
I’ve subtracted all the logical ways this could ever matter,
Yet it’s still here waiting for me to succumb,
Lately it gets pointless to want to hold back.
Nevertheless, with every single thought I have a defence
Because I never want anyone else to win,
I need to be ready,
I need to be able to show them all:
That this never meant a thing to me.

That just wouldn’t make sense,
To admit such sacrificial things
When I shouldn’t be the one to feel bad,
So no, just because I know it’s his fault,
Does not mean his absence hurts me.

It’s all just softly (painstakingly) nonexistent to me.
People think you should be optimistic,
They think you should give yourself goals to try to ascertain
To try and make yourself better.
These things though can be detrimental,
Because where I am
You have to get used to not being able to do things,
But then people say that you should make your goals small and attainable,
Yet they don’t understand that what is reachable one day,
Can be out of sight the next,
No matter how simple.
I am so much
Better
Than you would have me believe,
And each time you do this
I stand taller than you think I can

But I am exhausted
Of being stronger than they all believe,
When it doesn’t get me anywhere.
Anger is starting to quell and fill up my head along with the misery,
I don’t see the point of stopping it.
They give me no reason to conquer anything.

You have no idea
What all of this amounts to,
It actually makes me feel a bit hysterical
About how many things are wrong with this,
How many thoughts and feelings have been conjured from the impact;
The impact,
That you, of course, deny is even happening.

Maybe one day this will all just end,
At least a thousand years from now I must definitely be dead
And then it will be over.
If only I could wake up one day
And pretend this isn’t happening,
And eventually it could actually be convincing.
Maybe there won’t be so many
Emotions
Filling my head like a poison to myself and others and
It could all just be
Gone.
And it never would have happened.

Even if I could get over it,
And pretend it hasn’t changed me,
Pretend it hasn’t caused an ounce of impact:
That would be too much like what you’ve been wanting.
So whatever I do it hurts me
With acceptance or denial
When I can never
Never
Deny any of it.
But you do.
And I’m the last person to go around blaming people,
But oh **** and Heaven do you tempt me.

I don’t want to have to think about this everyday,
I’m sure it will always be there though
And I wish I wouldn’t have to worry about this,
But every reaction you make causes more damage
And you’re not even slightly important,
It must be good there’s hardly anyone else
Who is actually in my life,
To risk having a similar reaction.

Everywhere they all say,
That’s the thing, all you have to do
Is not to care and then it can’t hurt you.
I must agree I’ve said that too sometimes,
But I don’t care for them at all
I don’t really care what they think
But it won’t ease the tension or aggravation that’s building up inside of me.
Absolutely insane,
You’re pushing me past my limits
And making me deranged.
It kills me to know
All this agony you’re indulging me into
Is helping you shove me away,
And prove that it is only my mental state.
I could laugh at the amount of therapy,
This could force me to need.
I’ve had so much
Why would you make me feel this way?
Everyday I doubt myself,
I’m not sure how many times it’s from my symptoms
Or from what you tell me about them.
I know though,
I want everything to go away.
There’s no point of existing like this,
Acknowledgement probably wouldn’t be enough for me now,
But no one’s letting me have just that anyway.
While you throw your words at me
Like bombs whilst expecting me to think they’re bandages
Maybe you should just finish the job,
Because each breath I take becomes more forced, more tired, more hateful
Except none of you who think you’re doing your job
Notice a thing.
And that’s how I know
I would’ve been a **** good nurse,
Because I would have cared, I would have worked for people
And now you’ve made me not want to see any,
Perhaps even more than I did before.
I’m not sorry I don’t feel sorry anymore,
You’ve shown me how to feel like this,
I can’t believe I ever trusted,
When all I get is betrayed, ignored or shoved aside
And I’m done now.
I don’t want to listen to humanity anymore:
I don’t think there is any left.
Everything’s crashing down on me,
Breaking
Sometimes softly but
I can still feel it,
I breathe it in and out
Everyday,
While I’m still not understanding
What am I supposed to do with it,
I don’t feel like coping,
I don’t feel like writing
And I don’t want to tell.

Everything’s spinning around in circles in my head
And it’s a dark place where the light still exists anyway,
They say I see in black and white,
Without reason for the black while I don’t get why there’s any light,
Because it only sends me into darkness.

Am I supposed to make this
Beautiful?
I feel like I need a rest,
I feel like I want to hide from everything that could evoke a potential thought.
Maybe they are winning, I don’t feel like I am.

Wasting, running out of people to leave me,
I don’t want anymore.
And even those I love make me selfishly feel sad,
All because I know I should be happy for them,
What if they become as messed up as me one day?
I think my soul will fade away.
Ask me in the night,
How I am feeling?
I’ll still tell you I’m alright,
But part of me won’t want to.

You see there’s this ache
Somewhere inside
Telling me to push it out, to make it escape.
It won’t go.
There’s no point passing it around
It only ever makes people leave.

Yes, right, okay:
Maybe I am delusional, deceptive
And, it’s all my wrong idea
But that still doesn’t make it fine.
Why shouldn’t we worry that our own damage
Will be someone else’s collateral?
Do you not think I’m aware?
Maybe I’m not still naive.

If you’ve come here for the truth,
Then I am coping just fine,
In fact it was better than ever
And all blue skies.
That’s also probably the reason why
People don’t realise.
If you’re around when I’m like this,
If you’re in the way of my state
And there’s nothing left to do,
Then I won’t bother to hide it from you.

Actually, I hate to admit it,
But I’d probably go all out in making sure you knew,
Because what else is there to do?
Where’s the point? Even if you told me where it was, I’m not sure I’d go find it.

But if someone new walks in,
If it’s someone presenting opportunities;
A meaning.
I follow through with that instead,
I get on with it and then afterwards,
When I’m alone,
I close my eyes and remember what I was feeling the last time I pushed it aside
And I dissolve into it
Because I’m back to not caring,
I’m back to believing in how bad I feel
And maybe I don’t mind.
I feel the emotions
Awareness tells me I can write something,
But my mind won’t bring the words together
So I’m wondering how I’m supposed to
Bring the light back out from the darkness?

That makes it seem like I want to make things positive
And I don’t.
It doesn’t bode well with me
And if someone starts talking about good things
Then I’ll be the first to shut off;
If I don’t, I wonder why
People are being so happy, so optimistic about life.

Then I remember how
I’m happy really.
How I just need to remember that this isn’t all of it:
I’m just getting stuck in my head and pulling negatives together,
But that in real life I have something left in my days
Which makes me okay.
You see I’m not really miserable
All the time
It stops for a little,
So no, nothing’s wrong,
Everything’s fine and
I shouldn’t admit things I’ve never had or wanted to
Not now, because anyway
They would be the nails to this coffin
That sometimes it feels like
I already might be living in.
It’s okay though,
I’m still alive.

I guess
It’s just
Not
Good for me.
You can pretend
You don’t know that though.
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