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 Mar 12 Alice Baker
 Mar 12 Alice Baker
I have
been sober
for about
8 months.
Go me.
I said no to drugs once.
I looked a bag of **** right in the face
and, like a loving but firm father,
I said, "No."
I was really high.
 Mar 12 Alice Baker
 Mar 12 Alice Baker
i want her hands to travel the mountains and valleys of my curves,
the twisting road map of my bones
her soft words like campfire warmth,
spreading through the night
matches striking their box
set alight
with every
Retreating from
  weighty day of toil
I settle my slack
  on tailored sprawl of lawn
Compressed soil radiating ;
  tapped battery
  of a day's warmth
Life is raised through my cartridge
  I stretch out
  receiving reptile charge

Aimed shyly
   at the expansive dark bedding of night sky
     pecked at with pinholes...
each emitting brilliance
firing out fuel
  exhaust from further worlds
                less adulterated than our own

There is a correspondence
  amongst the insects in the grass
  ticking, clicks and tats
  like static amongst laundry
There's a great correspondence out there
  in the night sky

here am
   invulnerable human
    suburban and secure

a cross draft
   from the open basement window
              invades me
eggy sulphur burping from the drains
an organic degassing from below my house

: Betrayed ! 

my feeling passes
the stars behave stagnant
       and dismissive of me
; withholding glove oblivion ;
the clouds step in
  like a quick curtain
  over some 'lewd private show'
(must I pay more
                  to see more ?)
My world is kept restrictive
; a muzzling

I bare the weight still
      of the days wetter ill
Better off indoors
            of my own dander
and projected upon
        by a feeding screen
respiring corridors
   interior hospital night

                         ­         the winter
away facing
                       patient pacing

    in palliative care
for the age-ed out expiring
     iterations of ejecting death
       darkly dressed haggy wet breaths
        beds engaged
          berths of great ferment

corridor ; raked in
corridor ; ridden out squalling

a patient who has yet to reach
   the concluding condition of his fellows
   'Shut The **** Up'
mad for sleep
he's lost compassion

The corridor labours on
 Mar 12 Alice Baker
Cry as long and hard as you want
No one will hear you
Because no one is there
I feel like sometimes I’m completely alone and no one cares
 Mar 12 Alice Baker
Most people have something to show
Something to be proud of
People they’ve met

The only things I have under my belt are
Hospital visits
Knowledge on how to hide blades and matches
Knowing my way around rules at “facilities”
Random facts about suicide rates
Knowing hundreds of painful and sad quotes off the top of my head
Being overly knowledgeable on things like PTSD, depression and anxiety
ME teaching the professionals on mental health’s tricks and coping skills
Already knowing every single ******* thing THEY teach
Being able to get around the cops questions without any trouble
Being able to convince my friends and therapists I’m “fine” in a matter of minutes
Being able to cry without anyone noticing
Being able to change to subject so **** easily
And being able to recite every little ******* thing people have been trying to drill in my head my whole ******* life without a second thought
This is probably my hardest thing I’ve gotten out like ever
Sorry if this is too much for or triggering anyone
I just needed to get this out on a safe platform

Being open here without anyone judging me has been so refreshing and helpful
Thanks to everyone 😊
 Mar 12 Alice Baker
It’s not like they can do anything
That hasn’t already been done to me before
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