you have said
a few times
that you aren't working here
to make friends.
well,
we may not be friends
but you have helped me
more
than many of my friends
ever could.

I'm sorry -
for being late more times
than anybody can count.
I'm sorry -
for having difficulty
doing my job well
believe me,
I know it is not difficult.
I'm sorry -
for slacking off at times
for underpreforming
fairly frequently.

I always thought
you were supposed to hate your boss.
the people
who trained me
painted you in this horrible light
made me
think I would hate you
that you were unfair
cruel
and
not understanding in the least.

I know
you don't care
what those losers thought.
nobody does.
they ****
have horrible judgement
and I wouldn't hang out with them
if we were the only people on earth.
but
if I ever get the chance
I will curse them out
for saying those things about you.
actually
I will curse anyone out
for saying anything bad about you.

thank you
for giving me a safe space
for showing me that work
doesn't have to be a place
where my anxiety comes too.
thank you
for not treating me like a child
for being honest, even if it may
seem harsh at the surface.
thank you
for giving me more oppurtunities
than I deserve
and
for showing me
sometimes, not giving a ****
is the best and only option.

thank you
for introducing me
to my favorite authors
and for being a catalyst
that inspired me
to write again.
it does help.

I'm bad with words
and my vocabulary isn't large
and I'm bad
with talking about
how I feel without crying.
but I want you to know I appreciate you.
if there was a What Not To Wear show
but for like, jobs and homes and stuff
holy **** I would sign you up.
you deserve so much more
than the bookstore.
you deserve to be waited on
hand and feet
and have whatever the ****
you desire.

whenever I stop working here,
or if you need to let me go
just know
I will always hold you in the highest respects.
always.
I am also
always
a phone call away
if any of your enemies
need to be slain.

we might not be friends.
that is okay.
but just know
even if you hate me
or think I'm boring
or lame
or annoying
I don't care
I still love the **** out of you
and every part of who you are.

when I was younger,
when I felt low as I do now
I would lash out
try to hurt others
try to make them feel
the pain I felt inside.

now,
when I am depressed
I try to be as kind as possible
to anybody
who treats me nicely.
I dont want another soul
to have to experience
the pain I feel inside.

every kind, honest word
anyone has ever given me
resonates
inside my hollow chest
I think of these words
when I am feeling down
sometimes,
I repeat them to myself
to drown out
the negative voice of anxiety
that is screaming
all of my faults.

I
would suffer in my depression
alone,
and eternally,
without a second thought
if it meant
that other people
would never have to feel
the pain I feel inside.

I want to tell you,
you have value.
your life
is paramount.
you are beautiful
even if you don't see it
even if others disagree
if you are feeling low,
tell me.
I will send you a message
of every beautiful thing
about you.

and yes,
you are loved.
even if you feel
nobody loves you.
even if
nobody else loves you
I do.
I love your personality
your face
your flaws
they make you
exactly who you are
and,
I love your existence.

I may hate myself
but I refuse
to take it out on others.
let me be your escalator
get on my back
and I will lift you up
to a higher destination.

no one,
besides me
deserves to feel this low.

I don't even know where to start.
yesterday, I wanted to die.
today, I don't want to **** myself
but
that's not to say
I'd be upset
if something else killed me.

living with depression
id say
is just being a realist.
its not
some voice in my head
telling me I'm worthless
it's realizing
that unless I'm on drugs
my entire life
will consist
of
never having enough money,
never loving myself,
never loving living
how can anybody love living?
like, is my life a satire?
why am I attached to this consciousness
I didn't ask to be here
destroying
this planet
and myself
and others
while watching every other human
do the same.

when I was younger
when my family went out to eat
my mother would have to
use menus to divide
the table
so that my sister and I
would stop disrupting dinner.
we would make faces
and laugh the whole time
and be really rude
and loud.

my sister is my depression
I am my anxiety
and my mother
is nowhere to be found.

they rile each other up.
my anxiety
gets excited
yelling at me
telling me all the ways I'm horrible
all the people I have hurt
every
bad thing
I've ever done
my depression
chimes in
and says
"how about
how you pathetically
seek attention from everyone
while
being in denial of it.
do you think that if,
a thousand other people
tell you they like you,
and that you are beautiful,
you will believe it?
how pathetic."

that
takes anxiety on a whole new ride
with a billion other reasons
on how I'm pathetic.

yesterday,
they were louder than ever.
closing my store
took every ounce of effort
I had
and it's a simple job
reflex memory, even
I was reaching
far down inside of me
for the strength
to not crumple into a ball
and cry
until the custodian swept me up
and threw me away
with the other trash.

I talked to myself
telling myself

"you can do it,
you can do it,
there you go!
good job, almost there -"

"look at how pathetic you are
have to talk to yourself
like a ******* child
to get yourself to do
the most medial -"

"NO. NO. NO. NO. NO.
SHUT UP. NO.
SAVE IT FOR LATER.
BEAT YOURSELF UP
LATER
BECAUSE RIGHT NOW
YOU ARE DOING
A GOOD JOB"

afterwards
I cursed myself
for judging
any crazy person I saw
muttering to themselves
because now,
I am the crazy one.

my fourth favorite poet
Andrea Gibson
said,
"I thought I hit rock bottom -
but then it hit back."
same, girl.
I can't fight well
but I will try
to deflect these punches
as best as I can
until I can get my legs
to finally run away.

i feel sick
more sick
than i have in a long time

and i don't just mean
with myself
though
that sickness
is ever present
i mean
the back of my throat
feels like donald trump
cut off his *******
and shoved it down there.
and
my head feels fuzzy
and full
of water
like vertigo
without the dizziness.
i am cold
but i am not cold.
yet to me
the way my body feels
finally matches
the way i feel
inside

i need to finish closing this bookstore
i need to go home
to my bed
to my family
to people who love me
but this bookstore
is the only place that feels like home
besides inside your arms
in your bed
which, metaphorically,
i shat in.

today
i googled
how to buy cyanide
and got angry
at the website
for not giving me better directions
on ******* myself.

sometimes
there are people who enter your life
for whatever reason
and if god were real,
they would be angels.
one of them
today
gave me a reason to live.
he told me to keep writing
and i did
even if it's just me
typing
with tears streaming down my face
but it helps
it makes me not feel so alone
it gives me something to do
when i am lonely
and when i don't feel whole
instead of searching for my own inner peace
in strangers eyes.

the second angel
i met today,
they left a comment
on a piece of my writing
telling me
it brought them empathy,
and understanding
to a negative part of their life.

now, if i am a horrible person
and i don't see a point
to life
to being in debt
to being depressed
to hurting others
to hating myself
and everything around me
well, it makes it all worth it
if ridding this negativity
through words
can somehow
bring positive light
to somebody else.

somebody better than me.
i will write
and i will continue to write
until i die
from either somebody killing me
or natural causes
i will not
take my own life
not for the sole reason
that it would actually break my mothers heart
and she is too kind of a person
to deal with that
but because
my pain
becomes someone else's
closure

because
negativity
can become positive
if you transfer the power.

because
music
art
and
literature
are the only things worth living for
and the only things
that anyone ever
needs
as a reason to live.

thank you.

"i'm sorry,"
doesn't quite describe
the feeling
inside me
after hurting someone
who honestly, loyally
cared for me
and my well-being

someone who could do that
when i couldn't even try.

"i'm sorry"
doesn't get the point across
that i broke
something so pure
and it wasn't even an accident.
it's not like,
i was unaware
we were exclusively together
when i reached out
and flirted with other people.
it's not like
i was oblivious
that we were monogamous

i still proceeded
to throw the heart you gave me
onto the ground
and stomp on it

my too-kind boss,
says it's because
i am depressed
and it was an effort of self destruction
destroy,
the only light
in my life
destroy,
our love
when you were the only creature
on this planet other than my mother
to truly care for me.
destroy,
knowingly,
secretively,
hiding
where we stood
where i stood
leaving you
waiting
in this downpour
with the impression
i would be right back in five minutes
but really, i was already on my way elsewhere.

i wish life was easy.
i wish i was a simple individual
i wish
i knew how
to love,
and be loved
without subconsciously trying to **** it up for myself
maybe it's because i believe i don't deserve it
maybe it's something more shallow than that
i wish i had reasons
for my depression
just like,
i wish i had a reason
why i crushed our relationship.

if i were to be selfish,
i would beg you
to take me back
beg you
to cuddle me
and spend the night with me
giggling
and holding each other close
i would tell you,
it will never happen again
that it was a dumb mistake
and please give it one more shot

but i love you
so i can't do that

instead,
i will deal with the bitter loneliness
that i created for myself
deal,
with the fake caring
the forced attention
pretending to be
somebody i'm not
for admiration
when you
were the only person
to love me for who
i actually am.
was it worth it?
no.
attention,
and lust,
is not love.

i know you wouldn't
take me back
even if i got on my knees
and begged for your forgiveness.
you are intelligent
and you respect yourself
and i will refuse to do that
because
on the off chance that you do
i know in my heart
i don't deserve it, not even a little bit

i'm crying as i write this
but i've gotten really good
at forcing down tears
and making my voice sound normal
to tell the man
i'm checking out
to have a nice evening
and i break down in tears
as he tells me
"keep the change, ok?"

no matter how i try
everyone
can see i'm broken.
i don't deserve
your kindness
your love
nothing at all
from anyone
not even
eighty-nine cents

The rainbow
Of you and me
Would start with white.

"But Beck -
white isn't a color
it's the absence of them,"

Before I told you
that I loved the way
your words flowed across the page
we were whiteness.
You: oblivious to my existence
doing what I imagine
as respectful activities
of a father and husband.
Me: in a nineteen year old haze
loving a soul passionately,
playing video games, while discreetly
******* to your novel.
Which reminds me -
if you ever write erotica,
(you should)
please include the *****,
naughty,
gritty details,
that make my body rise and fall;
that make my wings flutter
in fleeting ecstasy.

We passed yellow
awhile back
intrigue, curiousity
you told me
you would never cheat
you can't help it
that you want to see people naked.
Lucky you -
I adore
showing you my naked body;
I touch myself
and reach my peak
to the thought of your eyes
caressing my curves,
your gaze
pinching my hard *******
as you explode
on my pixelated body.

I may have left you behind
as I reached green
a few weeks ago.
that's okay,
cause this place is a garbage dump.
envy
of the woman whom you belong to
who can feel your skin
who gets all of your words
all of you.
that's okay,
'cause all I really crave
is your body,
anyways.
I want your thickness
in me; but
I've said that enough times.

You've spent enough time here
Please wait in the car
I'm not the me you like
When I'm drenched in blue
Anxiety and
Self critique
Has brought me to be
Drowning
In depression
In my self loathing
I make pit stops by blue
All the time, it seems
I never leave
Used to be once a month,
Then once a week
Once a day
All day.
Days go by and I cannot breathe
Engulfed
In the blueness of never
Never have been
Never am
Never will be
Happy
Or
Satisfied?
I see your hand
And grab on
You pull me from the murky depths
You buckle me up
And drive us
To

Orange
Craving you
I want to know how you taste.
The budding sun
That rises
The daylight
The hand that pulled me
From the dark blue
Affection, a bit, but
Mostly
Intense lust.
**** me in orange.
Pull my hair until I scream
From the pleasure
Of feeling you inside me
Of you
Clawing
At my back
Orange, is just a vision
of ecstasy
close to the suckle enchantment
Of red
Deeper than
The innocence of yellow
I am writing this in orange

But I want you in red
All of you
The taste of passion
You've been teasing me with
I want it all
Spank me red
****
Me
Red
Make my sore
Tight
Passage red
From filling me until I collapse
I know you will never
Leave me unsatisfied
I am your pet
Of pleasure
Of anything you desire

Empty into me
With purple
Collapse onto me
Your satisfaction
Gleaming
Deep
Pure
Evil
I will massage you
Work away the stress
Of your successful
Life
Wash it away
In purple
Wash me away
In purple

"If you dont like the weather in Boston,
Just wait a minute"

last night
it was seven degrees outside
my teeth chattering
holding my body
for warmth
as I waited for my taxi
to arrive

the hail
felt like it was tearing my face into pieces
with every ice pellet
that hit my skin
I felt was tearing
pieces of you off my flushed,
warm cheeks

now,
it is morning
I havent slept.
my mind has been occupied
by you,
and lust filled fantasies
of you
inside of me
filling me until
I could burst

it is morning
the pellets that lashed me
violently
and landed in a soft pile
outside my bedroom window
are melting

I see the sunrise
the day
meeting the night
in a lustful embrace

if our bodies ever meet
I promise to make your sun rise
and then erupt
in a beautiful display
of spicy red
with hints of purple
to leave on the hotel sheets
a reminder
that tomorrows sunrise
is just a day away

you may be colorblind
but I will show you red
with my tongue,
my mouth
my lips

believe me
I will show you
color
how it's meant to be