you did nothing wrong
you are amazing
i just don’t want to be
in a relationship right now

i was the common denominator

fool me once - shame on you
fool me twice - shame on me
get broken up with for the same reason
four times - it’s a ******* pattern

how do I explain to someone new
that I am running out of pieces
of myself to give away

that i’ve stopped saving phone numbers in my phone until somebody proves
that they’re going to stay

that I don’t even know how to talk about myself
because the things that
make me - me
were the reasons
why everyone else left

that i haven’t figured out
what I’m doing wrong
and my track record
makes me not want to try

how do you tell someone new...
that you already know
they aren’t going to stay

Why do i feel like the thought of you is holding me down
like the weight of anchors in the sea

and you jumped ship and moved right along

but you've left me drowning beneath the surface

you asked me if a i wanted a house tour
at my first frat party
during my first
weekend at
school.

I still feel the heat of your breath
as it hits my skin.

I still smell the liquor as you start to lean in

I still remember the feeling of your hands
as you granted yourself  permission to explore my body
as if you had been gifted the key to the city.

your fingertips were like fire.
slowly burning across my skin
igniting a rage within my heart
that I would never learn
to put out.



   "911, what's your emergency.....?

                       ...I am burnt beyond repair...

She was full of life with a hunger for adventure.

Everyday she traveled to the ends of the earth to bring you back all of the happiness that you needed to sooth your racing soul.

But no matter how treacherous the journey, she always persisted, she would never let you down.

But as each day passed, each journey got harder and each time she returned, more exhausted than before and the happiness and joy that she wanted to share with you was never good enough - no matter how hard she tried.

Each song that she showed you, you said wasn’t your taste

Each accomplishment she was proud of, you were less than impressed

Each smile was never quite bright enough

Stomach not flat enough, hair not soft enough, kisses not sweet enough, each blink not quick enough, each breath not shallow enough.

Her mind was never sharp enough to keep up with your greatness.

Because you were royalty, the ruler or all, controller of time. But that is only how you saw yourself. The rest saw you as a crazed puppeteer trying to control the uncontrollable.

Which is quite the feat,
but you cracked the code.

Tell me,
How do you control the uncontrollable?

You break what isn’t meant to be broken until the point of being unfixable. But you fix them and break them like a record on repeat.

Showing them that you are the only one who can fix it, but like god you can take it away

So the girls who dreamt about falling in love walk on eggshells each day as to not **** it up.

To spare themselves from the verbal berating of
“i’m the only one who will ever care”
and the
“no one will ever love you like i do”
and the best of them all
“no matter how hard you try, you are and will never be good enough.”

When a lie is told too many times you believe it to be true.

Forever the ball and chain on the ankle keeping them grounded when the winds of someone new would come by.

Because who wants a girl who is damaged?

The instructions are shredded and in a language I don’t understand.

People come and they go, fixing and tweaking, leaving and taking parts along the way.

Forever a mismatch, an unmatched sock that you just throw out.

But someone, somewhere will help her understand her unreadable instructions

you arrived just as i was about to give up

with you, from the start, everything was different.

to say i fell was an understatement
dropping down far beyond all the previous hurt
a level i always knew existed
but never quite knew how to get there

but now, here i am - and the door is cracked open
when i peak through everything seems cloudy

i can see all of the ways this can go wrong
i can see all of the ways this can go right

I'm Terrified.
That one day you'll wake up
and want someone else

But i need you to know that as scared as i am to get hurt.
I'm All In.
You Have My Entire Heart.
The Good.
The Bad.
The Stressed.
The Anxiety.
I Want It All.

To put it simply,
to you I will always be true
because, Darling, I think I am
falling in love
with you

Learning to let go is hard
releasing the grip
relaxing the hands

Completely filling the lungs
for the first time.

Life is allowed to be messy.
It's okay to not be okay.

Enjoy the chaos
breathe deep
let go

Bloodline Meds are
The pills you need to take everyday
Like clock work
To continue to feel like yourself.

Sometimes you forget
but
somehow, you feel completely unchanged
you feel normal
your think you’ve finally beat it,

no longer a prisoner
no longer held captive by a specific milligram of
assorted medication

It’ll start slowly,
then it will hit you
like a ton of bricks.

cold sweats, aches, chills, nausea
feeling on the brink of death.

When you take bloodline meds
you have to decide
stay captive or go through withdrawal

Either option
you still lose a piece of
Yourself

I am exhausted
to the point that my short term memory is fading
and I can't remember what i've done yesterday
I'll lose my train of thought as I am speaking
and have no recollection of  the topic of conversation.

I am physically exhausted
to the point of blurred vision
hoping no one has noticed my tremor is back

I am mentally exhausted
to the point that my anxiety will not subside
and no matter how hard my body is pleading with my brain
i cannot fall asleep


exhaustion is overwhelming

I knew right away
when you stopped choosing me.

I knew because you started
only texting back one word replies,

I knew because none of you snap stories
from our trip included me,

I knew because you started untagging yourself
in my instagram pictures - that you told me to tag you in,

I knew because you lied about
other girls being down the shore,

I knew because you changed your Facebook
picture to you and a "friend",

I knew because in the photo
you were wearing a shirt that I bought you,

I knew because you said
she was just an old friend,

I knew because you changed my contact name in your phone
but wouldn't explain why,

I knew because you started rehashing previous drama
just to find an excuse,

I knew because you started
ignoring my calls,

I knew because you said you
just weren't ready for a relationship,

I knew because you said you
needed some space,

I knew because two days later your Facebook said
"In a Relationship" with the girl from your picture,

I knew then that you had never been choosing me.
You were placing me,
into the void of whatever your life was missing.
Merely a place holder
until you found what you really wanted.

I knew, right away
that you stopped wanting me, choosing me, and loving me
because you never wanted
to choose me
to love
at all.

i’m sorry i let you down.
i should go now anyway.
don’t be alarmed if you never see me again.
this will be my last mistake.
if you notice anyway

I want to climb every step
to the rooftop
of the tallest building
i can find - and shout
"YOU DO NOT DEFINE ME!"

I want to laugh in the face
of the chemicals in my brain
whose job everyday
is to convince me
that i am
unbalanced.

I want to stand tall
and continue living my life
in plain view of the
people who tried
to keep me down.

For every 1 moment that I feel better
There are 15 more where my
hands shake for no reason
or I get so overwhelmed
that I literally force quit
my existence
Forcefully shut off my brain
continue to find peace in the chaos.

I climb the steps to reach the top
to yell from the roof tops
But for every day that passes
2 floors are added to the top

I'm sorry
my brain never tires
I'm sorry
my thoughts always race
I'm sorry
I feel I'm not good enough
I'm sorry
I care more than I let on
I'm sorry
I feel so connected to you and I don't want to let go
I'm sorry
My mind twists a good thing - constantly finding problems that don't exist
I'm sorry
I question your feelings about me
I'm sorry
for feeling sorry
But I don't
Know how
else to feel.

The end result of talking to someone who has their read receipts on is the nagging feeling that whatever you said was not worthy of a response.

Your message is just one of many unanswered notifications that when added together equal a red bubble on a screen that gets ignored and forgotten.

Regardless of the meaning behind it - you feel ignored and forgotten.

So why do you still try.

Each message you send is like an arrow shot with no ending destination hoping to land near something that resembles some sense of stability before shooter loses their balance.

Each moment between messages drags longer and longer while think, “please turn from delivered to read”

You know they’re just busy.

So you wait a few hours, no response in sight. So, like a fool, you cast out a new arrow, as if you have an endless supply.

And you watch within minutes their name hits the screen, because your existence is remembered. So you quickly respond as to hold their attention that you have been craving all day. But that’s all you are going to get.

Because as much as you want to think you are someone special

You’re just a blip. Nothing more than a name on a screen that just gets swiped away. Just a number in a little red bubble waiting to be remembered.

maybe I’m not as good of a person as I thought.
maybe I’m the reason that someone, somewhere, can’t sleep
maybe I’ve caused someone irreversible damage

maybe thats why, while on the surface
I look happy as can be, but
Inside, I am restless, empty, cold.

maybe it’s finally happening.
maybe people are finally starting to see me
How I see myself

Humans are merely puzzles
comprised of 1000+ pieces that are hidden
sometimes right in plain sight.

never-the-less each piece is harder to find
then those that came before it.

We think it will be easy.
Simple.
Construct the edges - the unchangings
everything that we have no control of.

that right there though, sets us up for failure.
because the center is ever changing.
We are never able to see the end goal clearly.

So - we guess.
and hope for our sanity's sake each piece that we choose fits.
And sometimes they don't fit quite right.
so we make it fit.
whether that piece truly belongs there or not.

However, when putting together an actual puzzle
we are competent enough to understand that if a piece does not fit - it does not belong there, and we move on.
unfazed, unattached, focused on completing the picture.

Why.
time after time
do we try to force unfitting pieces into our puzzles
no amount of wanting will ever make that piece fit.

Yet, we stay committed, we stay attached
hoping that maybe the shape of that piece might change while we aren't looking.

But as always -
the right piece will be found when it is not being sought after.
After we've tried so many pieces that we are sure this puzzle is missing a few.

But there it will be
stuck in the bottom of the box
like a sunflower in New York City
they are a rare find
something that doesn't seem to belong
but oddly just makes sense.
And that might be the piece you've been looking for
all along

i don’t know how to not feel broken.

i don’t know how to make the anxiety go away.

i don’t know how to make the sadness go away.

please let this be a fixable chemical imbalance.

i don’t know what’s wrong with me and it’s causing me to lose myself

i’m starting to forget who I am

i’m starting to forget what makes me happy

Maybe one day I’ll take one extra pill
and the people who took me for granted
won’t hear from me again

for once—
i’ll be the one ghosting them

maybe I care too much
bleeding my heart dry
to make sure yours will still beat

maybe I care too much
emptying my lungs with kind words
for you to know how much
someone cares

maybe I care too much
lending you my eyes
so you can see yourself
the way I see you

maybe I care too much
and that is why
people always move on
and I am left behind

I held on so tightly, white knuckled , until it felt like it was impossible to let go.

And everyday I thought it was getting better but in the back of my mind my fingers were starting to cramp.

Eight months is too long to hold on to what could have been, what should have been, what isn’t.

The phone will not ring anymore, my screen will not light up reading your name.

The empty promise of you always being there can finally be laid to rest.

Because I don’t need it.

It’s time to relax my tired hands because it’s been too long since I have reached out. for something new

It’s 2020 and dating is a joke.

Dating is no longer about trying to get to know who someone is.

It boils down to left or right

hot or not

Society has made dating so hyper-focused on the physical that us women are left wondering if we will EVER be more than just a body.

Whether we are worthy enough to be seen again.

And because of this burning desire to be wanted- we do what we think we are meant to do- we put out.

But we are starting to get scared of all the hauntings caused by the ghosts who have never replied.

Stacks of empty promises of “I want to see you again” or “i’ll see you soon” becoming almost so unbalanced they might just fall.

But they wont

Because somehow the higher they stack, the easier it is to pretend it isn’t there.

To pretend it doesn’t bother us

Our dwindling self-worth held up by the hopes that maybe, just maybe, this time will be different.

So we endlessly swipe through strangers near and maybe far.

Waiting for that mutual attraction.

But how many swipes will it take for our hearts to feel full.

For us to stop feeling like we are incapable of being more than what they see us for.

Because as human beings we are extremely impatient.

Stop Looking.

1 year and 9 months since we ended.
1 year and 2 months since I told you to stop calling.
9 months since I last scanned every parking lot for your car, hoping we weren't in the same place.
6 months since I was able to say your name and be okay.
4 months since I started doing things that we used to do together.
3 months since I finally started feeling like myself again.
1 month since I truly moved on.
1 hour since I ran into you in public with her, for the first time.
30 minutes since I realized that you were doing okay, but maybe I was not.
15 minutes since I felt regression.
5 minutes since I figured out how much time I felt was lost.
2 minutes since I've learned that everything is going to be okay.
1 minute since I've accepted that only time will tell.

They say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder

but i think i’m going blind.

The longer i stand in front of my reflection

the blurrier my vision gets

Because if I can’t see myself as beautiful

Why would anyone else?

I wait
like a sitting duck
to be struck again by
the blow of disappointment.

I don't know why I think
each time will be different
But I wait--
just in case

I’m sick of being tired
Constantly on the go
Because if I don’t leave enough time for myself, than I don’t have to acknowledge that i’m not doing ok.
I’ll keep overbooking my schedule until I’m so far run into the ground
That all that’s left to do is place the stone.

Im sick of being tired
Every action dictated by a thousand various imagined world exploding outcomes.
None of which come true.
Because if I’ve thought of every single thing that CAN happen- I can’t be surprised, disappointed, or let down, when it does occur.
The last thread of control in my grasp
But my grip is growing weak.

I’m tired of being sick
knowing that something isn’t right and constantly trying to figure it out.
Like trying to find Waldo on the page.
Everything becomes a blur of colors, frustration grows, until, right in front of you all along, there he is, the mystery solved.
Until you turn the page.

And I’m tired of being sick
and continuously adding names to the list of people I feel I disappoint.
True or not
It’s rapidly growing.

I want to feel ok
But I don’t
I want my friends to think I’m ok
But I’m not
I want to break free from this circle
But,
Really,
I’m sick of being tired
And I’m tired of being sick

make it stop
the panic that something is wrong
that something is ending
the overwhelming feeling of inadequacy

I can be better
I want to be better
I need to throw up

I saw you.
evening wearing a mask
i remember every detail of your face.
and when our eyes met -
we both reacted in the same way
say nothing-- immediately walk in a different direction
because in our worlds
the other
no longer
exists.

The end of the day is the worst because you’re caught at a cross road - go home to the mundane or get in your car and forget it all.

Sit in the car until the windows fog up so the people passing by cannot see the stains of the tears that run down from those tired eyes because all of this - it’s all getting old.

But you sit, waiting for the car to be cold enough for you to finally feel numb to everything that stands on the other side of the fogged windshield.

Feeling every emotion so intensely.

Your heart beat pounding in your ears - so quick and loud that you think this time it may actually stop.

Calm Down.

Hold back the *****; the poison trying to escape from your body because your brain is telling you it is toxic.

These bones ache from the gravity of the unnecessary weight being carried. Holding up everyone else as if they were more important that yourself.

Bones can easily break and turn to dust under the pressure but the world won’t fall.

The weight of the world does not need to be carried by one person alone.

That burden is meant to be shared, to stand stand together and support each other when needed.

It is a give and take, not a solo act.

Remember, you are not Atlas. You are not condemned to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders.

I’m so tired of watching my phone hoping that every notification reads your name.

The calls are few and far between but when my screen says your name, i can’t say no. Because in that moment, though you will never admit, you missed me.

You thought of me long enough to call.

But not when i try. Just on your time.

And yet i still try, just to get no response.

So i throw myself in to something better, someone better - who does everything I want and more without even knowing it because that is just how they are.

But you’ve just become part of the problem. You’ve added to the list of reasons why i’m confident no one will stick around.

That when texts go unanswered it is not for the rational - it is because i’m annoying and too much to handle - even though i know that isn’t true.

But I still throw myself head first because you never know until you try

Things finally start to feel normal. You feel like yourself. You feel the thoughts and the memories fading into the background - and you’re okay.

You are comfortably letting go.

But then you call. And the vicious cycle begins again.

We rewind and restart but the tape in this film is wearing thin from the amount of times it has been spun.

And i’m tired. In every sense of the word. And I want to be done.

But i know one day your name will no longer frequent my screen - and the world will not end-- and I will learn to live life as if you did not exist.

Home

Typically walls and a roof.

Built upon a foundation of love and trust.

The love of the people you let in to your life.

And the trust of knowing that even if you begin to crumble, something will catch you before you get close to hitting the ground.

Often times though, home isn’t found in the walls.

It is found in the slight glimmer in her eyes as she begins to crack a smile.

When you don’t hear her make a sound on the other end of the line because she is laughing so hard.

It is found in the completely comfortable silence during the lull of endless free flowing conversations.

It is just knowing that for a moment in time, someone was thinking about you.

And it is within that scary realization, that you finally notice --

that when you think of them

it feels like

home.

It's a tricky game
full of smoke and mirrors.

unable to determine real from fake

but then there is you.

A real thing that i try to pick apart -
trying to find a red flag amongst
a sea of green.
for no reason.

I don't deserve this.

I'm a sham, a fake, a phony.
all bark - no bite

Hiding behind humor
hoping you don't notice.
hoping your name continues
to hit my screen

You were a cancer
Unknown
Slowly breaking me down from the inside out
Leaving me much more damaged than imagined

I’m sorry
I won’t do it again
I was wrong
You were right
I will be better
I can be better
The only sentences that were allowed in my vocabulary

As we know, cancer has long lasting effects
And here I am
Still shrinking when I feel like I’ve done something wrong
Preparing myself for hurtful words when I feel like I’ve disappointed someone.

You were a cancer
Unknown
Until you found another to break

Falling
heels over head
like Alice down the rabbit hole.

every sense of security
being right out of reach

Tumbling through chaos
pushing through the past
to find some sense of clarity
that i never new existed.

A reality that I only saw on the big screen
forever unattainable
yet now-
staring me right in the face.

and for once - i'm looking right back.
because this time-
i'm falling hard and I don't want to get up

Take a moment
and think
will this truly affect me 72 hours from now?

if the answer is yes-
You need to take the time
And figure it out

if the answer is no-
You need to stop
and let. It. Go.

it is not important enough to consume your thoughts.

Let it go

how do I make it stop
how do I disconnect body from brain

I don’t want to feel like this
I want the room to stop spinning
I want my thoughts to not control
The actions of my body
I want to keep my head out of the toilet
But I don’t know any other way
To feel better

Everywhere i go I pass by a memory that went from sweet to sour.

I drive by the house where I first met you.

I try to avoid the street that you live on, where i spent every weekend falling in love -- but it’s on my way to work and unavoidable.

I pass by the park where you told me that you couldn’t promise you wouldn’t hurt me but you would try your best not to.

I don’t go to the movies on Saturday mornings - because we used to do that- and i don’t think my heart can handle seeing you there with another.

I walk by the fishing pole in my garage that you got me so we could do something that you liked to do- together.

I won’t use the blanket from Mexico because the warmth reminds me of being in your arms on the last night of our trip, after I told you I loved you - for the first time

I can’t bring myself to throw out your hoodie or sweatshirt -- because, maybe, you’ll ask for them -- even though i know you won’t.

I can’t go anywhere in this town without first thinking “i hope he isn’t here, and if he is, i hope she isn’t with him”

I stare at the box you hand carved me because you wanted to make sure I knew that I was special - i want to get rid of it - but never will.

I think about how you have the photos of us in the box in your closet because you said you would never forget about me or throw them out.

I can’t even say your name anymore.

How can I move on when there are reminders of you EVERYWHERE?

But
you have already moved on from me.

He looked at me and asked, “why are we doing this?”
as if loving someone is something that we choose to do.

Had I known nine months ago how this adventure would end - I can’t say for certain I would do it again.

But that wasn’t for me to decide.

My heart saw something that it wanted and would stop at nothing to make it theirs.

I was drawn to him. pulled in from the feeling that this was right. That this made sense. That it was meant to feel this easy.

We do not get to choose who we fall in love with

Our hearts thrive on the affection from another and when it’s gone - the withdrawal is something you can’t kick.

Because
“why are WE doing this”
is just code for
“why am I doing this?”
“Why do I love you”
- there is no longer a “we”

Somewhere along the journey this duet became a solo act,
but I had been too caught up your love to notice.

why are we still doing this?

Loving someone isn’t meant to be easy - you are meant to fight to keep what feels right.

And if that is a question you are genuinely asking me right now...

then maybe we shouldn’t be doing this at all.

You know when you are driving home at night and you zone out for what feel like a millisecond
but all of a sudden you’re one turn away from home and your first thought is, “wait, how am i here already?”

Somehow safely zoned out, yet still being able to control a vehicle.

But your mind -- in limbo -- between real & subconscious.

A minute or so of serenity.

Clarity, if just for a moment.

A frozen path to happiness.

What’s really interesting though, are the driveway thoughts.

“I don’t want to go through that door.”

Why?

Because going inside means that today is over and if today is over then tomorrow is coming and if tomorrow is coming then i have to do this again and I don’t want to do this again.

Going through all of the motions like I know what I’m doing.

I don’t.

I’ve been playing a part for years so no one will suspect how close i am getting to giving up.

Lungs, ya know, they get tired.

Makes you think -- if we didn’t breathe subconsciously, would i do it myself?

I look back at time stamps on photos

now knowing you had one foot out the door

You didn’t want to hurt me

Yet you continued to "love" me,
committed to a lie for 2 months.

As if you thought lying would soften the blow.

Ease the pain.

You didn’t love me anymore.

And I study these pictures

from beginning to end

and, it's true -- you can see the difference

from when you loved me and when you didn’t.

It scares me a bit, that from the inside
i didn’t notice a thing

I live in a constant state of delusion that my world is not falling apart

But around me each day parts of the sky hit the ground.

Trying hard everyday to cope with the artificial happiness provided by chemicals digested at specific designated times.

Prescribed by someone who promises that everything will go back to the way it was.

But each day the memory of who I was fades away until it is nothing more than a shadow on the bathroom floor as I look into the mirror unable to recognize who I have become.

I’m tired of doing this.

I'm tired of having to live off of the demands of dosages that I will never understand.

because why do I have to take something artificial to feel something real again.

And I'm angry, because I know it wasn’t always like this,
but the road to get back home became too jagged to travel,
so I am forced to just watch in jealousy as everyone else figures it out.

They’ll send a postcard that reads, “We Wish You Were Here!”,
but they will never understand
how badly I wish I was.

It is said that people who are depressed spend their days sleeping and finding a home within their bed.

But we never hear about the people who can’t.

The ones, who no matter how hard they force their eyes shuts — cannot propel their mind from reality to dream.

Caught in this repetitive time loop of always being awake and constantly being tired.

I’ve been there —
created a home within the sheets
because it was safe.
it was comfortable

In my bed under three blankets was the one place where I felt like I wasn’t going to die.

Anywhere else was a one way ticket to panic city

Finding and holding on to that sense of safety became the only thing of importance.

Eating - nope

Showering - nope

Getting dressed- nope

Nothing made sense other than staying cocooned.

But --

If sleeping is where I found comfort - why do I only sleep about 20 hours a week?

I'm scared.

Scared that I'm going to fall back into being the person that I was — and not the person I’ve worked so hard to be.

Scared that I’ll remember the happy and safe feeling that engulfs us while we are asleep.

Scared that if I go to sleep, my brain will remember how much it likes to be shut off.

Scared because what if that is what my brain prefers.

Scared because what if I give in and I don’t wake up.

Scared