I'm scared to pick up the phone because if it was you I couldn't get someone to lie and say I am in the shower.
If it was you I would have to decide if I wanted you the truth,
to ask you why it got like this
It scares me that although I seem so sure that I'm okay to ignore you, that I don't need you,
it still bothers me that you haven't talked to your daughter in over a month.
Did you even care at all or did you just feel obligated because I'm one of your kids?
Are you just occupied with other people now, so you don't have to go to me?
And I can't call you
because I like that means you've won.
Proving that I need you or something sick like that.
That I caved first.
But I won't.

All of this is so broken
All of it.
And no one wants to cut their hands trying to pick up the pieces,
it may never get any better.

I don't even like the word never! Yet it seems so appropriate because I don't like this at all.



No
                     NO
                                           Stop this heavy hurt.

Or at least.....
                          *call your daughter

99 bottles of emotion on the wall
they're all full to the brim
sometimes the get shaken up
but they seldom get opened up and poured out
except when dumped on the pages of this notebook

Bed under full moon  .  .  .
Bodies bathed in cold flame,
  .  .  .  Old lover visiting.

Time has molded each of us
into the perfect shape,
has defined our edges finely,
has smoothed our surfaces so slick so
we may slide into one another
and make a perfect fit.

'Thats true self harm' she said
proud and self announced
like she could comprehend the universe
and that it left her no challenges

that in her 50 years, she had learnt all people
all feelings
all possibilities
and could now group us all like colours in a jar

i left, because it hurt
to think that after everything i go through to explain
the simpleness of 'some people'
discounts all the effort

there is no wrong and right way to hurt yourself
there is only a future
which we endeavour to make hurt less