I don’t live in the present
I live in my mind

where things
are more complicated
and over analyzed

where your name
doesn’t repeat itself
a hundred times just for me
to remember it

where I don’t think
about how I’m standing
or how I’m smiling
or if I’m smiling too much
or too little
If my hands look weird
and
If I’m sweating too much

I live in my mind
where things are very loud

and I am so, very quiet

they say I should forgive him
that no matter what happens in life
he's still my dad
and whatever things
he has said to me
he didn't mean them
or that he just simply
forgot
that whatever wounds
he left me I should just
cover up
put a bandaid
they say
but I tell them
bandaids
don't fix bullet holes

your footsteps
echo through the hall

it truly
makes my skin crawl

it makes me anxious,
it makes me sick

and truly,
I don't know what it is

I think
I associate your footsteps
with something bad

something happened
something sad
something, that weighs heavily
on my back

I tried to think
I tried to remember
but I came back empty

empty of memories
empty of meaning
empty of all the things
I should be feeling

so tell me
why your footsteps
makes my skin crawl?

I just want to know
how to deal with it all

I’m in my car
Waiting for you,
My heart beating
Underneath my ribcage,
I feel the exhaustion
And the weight
Of the little bag
Of tools that it
Brings with it,
Just in case
Pieces start to fall off,
The wait feels infinite,
The ticking of my
Watch echoes through
The air vents and
Leave me wondering
When will I get to
See you.

But you are not me
I am me
and I am magic

I hope you find me
in every single thing you do