I feel like there should be a funeral for people to gather and say goodbye.
Reminisce about the good old times and console one another as they cry.

They’d remember how I loved to dance and laugh; being wild and care free.  
It would be a day of celebrating the full and vibrate life of me.

But instead I’m classed as living even though part of me is dead.
They tell me how good I look but they can’t see inside my head.

The future was once mine to take, my destinations vast.
Now all I have are constant thoughts of how long this hell will last.

I am the only mourner for the girl that passed away.
For her spirit has left unnoticed whilst her body is here to stay.

It sounds the same and sometimes smiles but it is just a mask.
Trudging through each endless day and fumbling through each task.

The friend you had, the girl you loved is sadly no longer here.
That I seem to be the only one to realise has become my biggest fear.

I know that I am dead and gone but still here I seem to be.
Trying to pretend that I’m just the same old me.

It's 3am, the vodkas gone and I've been out dancing.
I've been looking at the other boys but all I thought about was you.
Stumbling home I wonder if you'll be in.
Or are you out drinking, snorting and ******* again?
You meet me at the door with an offering of water, food a hug?
I love it when you crawl.
I love it when you beg.
I just love it when you want me.
You tell me I look pretty, that you've missed me and have been waiting.
You wonder if I've spoken to other boys, ****** them or have I been dating?
You don't deserve my words, my reassurances.
I will never tell you that all I think about is you.
All I want to do is curl up in your lap and have you stroke away every stress.
I miss being your cat.
But you found a new ***** to stroke if only for one night.
My territories been tainted, she sprayed you and I can't get out the smell.

You take me in your arms and I let you.
To feel your skin on mine makes me whole.
I miss you, I want you but I hate you for what you did.
It's too late for moral objections, I need to feel connected.
Lips on lips, caressing with eager finger tips.
I am wet, I am ready, and then we are one, I am whole, I am filled with you.
I think of her, I think of you. Together in this way.
Did she feel better then me?
Are you thinking of her now?
My fingers turn to claws and I mark you with my rage.
Was she tighter, better, slimmer?
I am downgraded, I am less, I am not good enough.
I reach for you throat as you ****** above and glare into your eyes.
"Call me Kate."
"Call me Kate."
"Call me by her name."
You try to kiss me into silence but I am persistent.
You lean down and whisper her name in my ear.
Again! Again! ******* call me it again!
I am me and I am her. I feel sick but God does this feel good.

We both reach that point of no return with her name upon your lips    and I wonder where we go from here...

Hello doctor.

I don't know why I'm here but I suppose I guess I do.
Each day I wish I didn't wake up because the day I can't get through.

This year just keeps getting worse and worse and I'm worried I won't cope.
I'm starting to lose the will to live, I'm beginning to lose all hope.

My nan died back in January and I've never dealt with death.
I was in the room with her when she took her very last breath.

My family fell to pieces and some awful things occurred.
My dad had a breakdown and for all this I was unprepared.

My nursing degree was difficult but I tried all the same.
My boiling feelings of loss and anger inside I tried to tame.

But I had been sick for a long time with what I did not know.
The constant pain and worry was bringing me so low.

Finally in May they found that my brain was slipping out.
My spine was filled with liquid and my mind was filled with doubt.

Then came the surgery, my head they did decompress.
They removed some brain and spinal cord so the pressure would be less.

The pain was unbearable and I lost all sense of time.
I still tried to smile and pretend that all was fine.

Treated but not cured, disabled now forever.
My partner held me close at night and helped to hold me all together.

Weak now that I was, my old life gone as well.
A new job I did go for and my positivity did swell.

Thinking things were changing, that happiness was in reach.
My cursed life could not have this, a lesson it had to teach.

My boyfriend, my one and only, had made a big mistake.
He had managed to **** another, I can't cope with this for ***** sake!

Now my job is getting harder and I'm failing every day.
Is it normal to just want to die, should I be feeling this way?

I don't know why I'm here, I just don't know what to do.
I don't think I am coping, today I can't get through.

You tell me that I’m your world, your moon, stars, planets and Pluto.
Are you my Atlas? Condemned for eternity to hold me up and stop the sky from falling.
If I am your all then why are you so sad?Am I not enough?

Life is **** isn’t it?
Yes, yes it is. I’ve been trying to tell you for years but you told me that it wasn’t.
Were you lying to me or to yourself?

The lights are off and your sitting on the kitchen floor.
Your breathless sobs and the tears that pour.
I don’t know what to do, what to say, I can’t give you any more.
I am empty, I am nothing, my heart is torn and sore.

What about you?
The plate of beans you considered to throw, but the mess afterwards was not worth the furious release.
You punch the chair rather than my face.
We laugh at your rational rage.
Whilst I am silently screaming inside this invisible cage.

I cannot be your all when you are a void consuming alI that I was and could be .
I cannot sustain you and you will not set me free.

You hold me close and I find it hard to breathe.
The stars are fading and the sky is falling down.
You tell me how much you need me and I continue to silently drown.

Sorry for contacting but my mind is in overdrive ...

The fact that you randomly met some woman, the first to give you attention since we met and you slept with her...Does that mean you would have done the same thing at any time if someone had just given you the attention? Were you kissing before you even left the social so you knew what would happen when you got back to hers? Did you make the first move? You obviously found her attractive and wanted to **** her. Did you fancy her more then me? Am I that unattractive to you is that why you never wanted ***, could never get hard but you could **** her? Did you cuddle her afterwards? Was it actually in our house, in our bed? Did she stay for breakfast? Are you lying about the full entirety of the story? Do you still have her number? Did you *** in her? What if she's pregnant? When you had *** with me on the Tuesday did you think of her? How could you stick your ***** diseased **** in me knowing what you had done and what you could be passing onto me? Did you find it funny that you had ****** somebody else but you were acting so normal with me? Did you wish you had kept contact with her so you could do it again? Do you think of her when you're with me? Is this something you'll just do over and over again now because you're a lying cheating *******?

This isn't just the main thing. Since I met you you have been a druggy and you have spent years, actual years now lying to me and taking drugs secretly. Snorting away your money, snorting away your friends and snorting away me. You haven't just lied and kept your ***** little **** secret for a week you've kept this to yourself for years. What else are you lying about? You're very good at it. Convincing. I felt like I have trusted you always but really you've been taking me for a stupid idiot for years, lying to my face repeatedly over and over again. Who are you! Who the **** are you! You're still lying. Are you ever going to change? Do you even want to?

You say we can get over this, that everything will be better now. How can I even contemplate getting back with you when everything before has been a constant lie, a constant struggle. I will not get back with a druggy, a liar and now a ******* cheat! How can I ever trust you? How can you ever prove yourself? You've said all of this before, all of these words of change. I will not even contemplate thinking about being with you until you can show in some way that you're actually helping yourself.

I feel furious.
Raging. Roiling. Boiling.
Tipping over the edge. Serrated edged and spiky. What the **** is this energy ripping through me. On the surface I appear calm, collected; cool as a mother ******* cucumber. It makes me smirk to think that I am hiding the cataclysmic chaos of my unfiltered, unchecked, fragmented,  racing, wreck of a mind. Thankgod for filtering. The sieve that catches the crazy before it can leave my lips.

We met randomly as many people in love stories often do. I had left my husband of 8 months; moved cities with a bag of clothes to live with my parents. Resolute that I was going to be celibate & die alone I took myself to the cinema. The movie was ****, I was tired so ordered a taxi. Taxi Man was young, chatty & a bit weird. He gave me a magazine about mindfulness and spirituality. I had only recently been touched by the Holy Spirit of the universe & I was seeing signs and messages everywhere. This guy seemed like a billboard. We swapped numbers and I thought I had made a friend or at least just gotten hit on by a player with a game plan. Either way my ego was boosted.

We texted, he asked me out on a date. Pandemic 2020 hit the world and I was **** blocked by Corona. We stayed in touch for 2 months when he asked me to break the rules. Come for a ride? Ride him? We joked about going *******... maybe it wasn’t a joke. I had just come on my period so I pretended that I was being good and waited a week before I quit quarantine

He will find me out.

I am filled with such a longing, a never ending need. I want to be filled, held, connected, penetrated by that strong pulsing ****. I want to bury my head under his arm, burrowing down the rabbit hole of uncertainty and unknowing. I want him to stroke my hair, wiping away every worry. I want, I want...I want. Like a spoiled child, no matter what I get I want more. I want him to want me. To tell me in no uncertain terms that I am all he thinks about, all he needs. I want to be in his dreams, a figment of his unconscious desire. ******* worship me you ****. I am your messiah. Don’t crucify me with your cool, collected cruelty. I don’t want to run, I want to be chased and caught. ******* capture me, catch me as I fall into this psychotic pitt of certain craziness. I am insane. Completely batshit crazy. The amount of life I have wasted looking at my phone to see if you have answered me is a small suicide. Stupid. Stop. Stop. Step back. Bring yourself away from the cliff edge. You’re tottering but haven’t yet fallen. Fallen flat on your face. Fallen away. Fallen to pieces. I can’t fall to pieces if I was already broken. Smashed, cracked. Unfixable. I just wanted him to hold me together. Just for a little while. So I would know, even for a moment, what it was like  to be whole.