as the wind currents
are changing they indicate
a seasonal change

It comes knocking at times
When you are already down.
You're not good enough it laughs
And you never will be.

I was crying in the shower again.
It was one of my "panic attack" showers.
I needed something to calm me down,
And I hoped steam and hot water
Would stop me from vomiting.
At minimum it would keep me
From forcing my index finger down my throat.

I stepped into the rain
Tiny pellets of water caressed my skin
Ready to burst as they surfaced.

Suddenly, I couldn't breathe.
The room spun and I felt my eyes well up.
Everything was wrong
And the worst part was
I had to hide my cries.

I could not wail out even if I wanted to
For everything that possessed me
Was everything that my parents remain unaware of.

If my mother so much as heard a whimper,
I would be bombarded with questions.
I did not want that.
It was not what I needed.

The desire to purge consumed my being
My body, my mind, my soul
All seemed to turn on me simultaneously.
I needed a fix.

I see a razor and I start to tremor
Cut, cut, cut
Is what I want to do
Something inside of me is bloodthirsty.

And who shows up?
None other than that annoying buzzing in my head.

"Just do it."
"They knew you wouldn't change."
"You need this, you know you do."
"You cannot go on. You cannot fight this."

I start to taste saltwater
As tears flood down my face.
I am holding on to all I have left.

I clench my wrists, shaking my head.
I had to keep repeating
No, no, no
I will not stop fighting.

Then, something spectacular
Something brilliant occurred within me.

Life is made up of choices.
In my house, I am accused of being selfish
And never taking accountability.
If only they knew
How I blame everything on myself.

I do not blame what I have been through
For the decisions I make and have made.
Those were mine,
And that voice will not let me forget that.

But another voice not enters the picture
An empowering, strong timbre
With an amiable, gentle tone.

It tells me that yes, those were choices
And many of them were mistakes.
But I am choosing to get better.
I have chosen
And will choose this.

That voice in my head
Isn't so responsive anymore.

Sometimes ***** tastes like you.
Like having *** on the bathroom counter.
Like pizza movie nights.
Like getting high on the roof while reading poetry.
Like eating you out in the back of that church.
Like crashing that car in the field behind your house.
Like playing the guitar on your back porch.
Like the sound your horrid contagious laughter.
Like drawing hearts on each other's backs with crayola markers.
Like your tongue after the first cigarette.
Like you and me.
Like you.
Like us.
Like you.