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Laura Apr 2019
Long liquid breaths fill my lungs
An ache, born in my skull, spreads through my limp body
A rush of salt, and spasms.

This is what I want... what I’ve been waiting for

Fantasies of my swollen body, split in the sun
Pecked by seagulls, picked by *****

All of them I envy
They are real
I am not real. I never have been.
I wrote this in college. My professor’s only comment: “if this is how you really feel, you need to seek help”. By then I had felt this way for so long that I didn’t understand that it was abnormal. That was 25 years ago. Not long after, I was hospitalized and diagnosed with bipolar disorder. I’m lucky to be able to say that I only feel this way every few months, now. If you feel this way, know that you don’t have to. You can get help. Believing that it exists is the hardest part.
  Oct 2018 Laura
I don't think about it any more
I take out the trash
Sticks caught in the crotch of a tree
The wind does what the wind does
breaks weaker branches down
does not care where
it leaves
on its invisible way

Days do what the days do
they don't count themselves
worthy as they go
to release
the afternoon
to evening—
an artless
to a low spot
where tears tend to pool
if I'd let them down

“You know,
in that low spot
out there...?”
Where it's hard to see
Where its hard to care?

They take heart
divide it by energy
for sadness—
I haven't got

Watched the clock go round
wipe out my little plans
with relentless hands

...and I never got dressed today
Laura Oct 2018
And then we weren’t.

I learned more about you in our ending than I did in those two years

One minute you were my  Heathcliff.
The man that I had looked for all of my life.
The next, a paltry reproduction. All of your pretty words dispersing like the death of a Tempe dust storm.

I will make peace with never understanding.
I will cease longing for something that never was.
I will heal

But I will always wish that I didn’t have to.
Laura Sep 2018
There’s a way with you,
how you see all of me

pulling me out
naked and unashamed

Not only finding my heart, but showing me the path too.

One day, maybe, you’ll let me sift through your ravaged parts

I can’t fix them,
but we’ll merge them with mine
and create something beautiful

— The End —