I have two hands.
My right hand resembles my past;
My past thought processes
Insults and compliments paid to me.
Friends,
Lovers,
Liars,
Cheaters,
Rapists.
My left hand resembles my future;
My future thought processes,
Ambitions,
Friends,
Lovers,
My actions and reactions to insults and compliments
The lines on this hand act as guides
They pave the way to the future self I want to be
The lines on my other hand act as scars,
Calloused reminders of memories best left forgotten,
Traces of every bad thought of myself etched into my skin.
My hands are 25 years old
They hold everything I am and what I've done,
They will help me shape and mold a future they can grasp.
Bad habits are a ***** to break.
My bad habit has always been hearing insults louder than compliments and then in turn insulting myself
Right hand--past.
That's the thing I know I need to work on and strengthen my mind against.
I need to start thinking good things and hearing the compliments,
Left hand--future.
But...there inlays my problem...
I'm right handed.

You don't get it.
You can't do that.
You can't walk away and then come back and act like you care...
No, I didn't say that you can't be nice or polite,
I'm saying that you can't inquire about my safety every chance you get and offer favors when you're worried about it.
That's far too "boyfriendy"
You can't get jealous
You always wonder why...
It's because you're the one who leaves
Every. Time.
It's like...
We're walking down an old dusty road together, hand in hand
We stop, you turn to me, and walk away.
I watch you leave.
I look around confused and wander in circles.
I finally get my bearings and start down a new path
Then there you are in front of me again
And where else can I go?

He said, "I'm sorry"
He apologized a lot and I never really knew why.
He made me dinner.
"I'm sorry I ruined it," he said
But I was just grateful for his thoughtfulness.
He would apologize repeatedly,
I continued to say that I loved it,
I loved him.
And I meant all of it.
"I'm sorry I didn't respond."
"I'm sorry I over slept,"
"I'm sorry I'm sad,"
It all means "I'm sorry I'm flawed"
Honey, I don't want perfect and I never did.
I wanted you in all of your imperfect glory.
I wanted you've worked all day and smell but I want a hug anyway
I wanted terrible morning breath
I wanted mistakes in the kitchen and to watch horrible movies that make us want time back in our lives.
I wanted everything good, bad, weird, anything as long as it was with you.
"I'm sorry," you said
"I'm sorry I didn't say anything, I thought you were mad."
Honey, I can count on one hand the times I was legitimately mad at you,
Frustrated and a little annoyed were more often than mad.
Maybe I didn't apologize enough for being me
When you apologized too often for being yourself
Just because you always thought you had to.
But honey, you are the greatest thing that ever happened to me.
Despite the tears and the pain, I am happy to have known you.
I wish we could see the world through each other's eyes,
Maybe then you could see that you are the sun in my universe
And I am just spinning around you.
Maybe then I could see everything you see that's wrong with us.
Maybe then I could prove you wrong...
Maybe then we could fit together like we used to,
Like two puzzle pieces cut perfectly to fill each other's hollow spots.
I'm grasping at straws, the hope that someday soon,
Before I fade away, you'll show up at my door
No words would be needed because our eyes would hold all of the love and yearning we've kept just underneath the surface.
And when we finally melt together, the eruption would happen and we would know that we can make it through anything. Everything.
I'm grasping at straws, but they all slip through my fingertips...they fall to the floor among the pieces of my heart.
"I'm sorry," you'll say.
The saddest thing, I think, is how much we miss each other and want each other,
But we stay as far away as possible
Out of confusion,
Out of habit,
Out of comfort,
Out of fear...
And for all of that, I am sorry.

I'm doing 90 on the freeway
My hands gripping the steering wheel like a tourniquet
Trying to stop the memories from flowing
By draining the blood from my helping hands

Music blares from the speakers
To drown out your constant drone
Of laughing and good feelings
My ears ring from the echoes of the past

Your face appears, an apparition from a beautiful nightmare that I can't wake up from.
I thrash, I kick,
I daydream about wrecking my car in a desperate attempt to shake you

But you exist everywhere I have ever seen your smile.
It's like a tattoo on my heart
No Q-switched laser can take it away.
I'm branded yours.

I've driven these streets a million times
But they're foreign, plagued by your image.
These towns are haunted by the ghost of you
Constantly tormenting me

Your vision reminds me that, while I grew up here,
This place is not my home.
The strongest walls I've ever had were your arms.
Now that you've left, I'm homeless.

Sleep paralysis.
That's the best way I can describe it.
You can't move.
And you want to call out,
But you're stunned.
Stunned because you never knew it could happen to you.
Not with him. None of them.
It doesn't make sense that someone could be so heartless,
How someone can hear you say "no, I don't want to," or "please stop," and see you move away, or try to fend them off and not care.
You can't move because they're bigger and stronger.
You can't scream because nobody would hear you
And you don't want to give them the satisfaction.
But inside your head, glass shatters from the sheer volume.
You struggle a bit more,
But when you realize it's pointless and your movements give him encouragment,
You lie still and wait.
You lie still and wish yourself far away.
And when he releases you, it takes you a moment to understand that it's over,
You're free.
In that moment, you've never felt so small, so fragile. So broken.
You pick yourself up, pick up your clothing and they always act like everything is fine.
Like they didn't just shatter your world.
They make you feel like you're crazy, wrong for the way that you feel.
You put yourself in that situation, you could have avoided it.
Even though you said "no."
That doesn't seem to matter.
Sleep paralysis while you're not sleeping is a different kind of hell I hope you never experience.

She smiles.
It's a genuine thing:
Raises her cheekbones,
Lights up her face and puts a sparkle in her eye.
You smile, too. You feel better.
She knows how to make people feel better.
Even when she's not okay.
Her smile blinds everyone to the pain.
The thing about her is...
She doesn't want the same in return,
She wants your ear.
Your presence.
Your acknowledgment.
Your time.
But you only come around when you're down,
When you need a light in your darkness.
She let's you take whatever brightness you need from her.
Because she doesn't mind.
She can make everyone feel good
Except herself.
Her light is fading fast,
Stolen by thieves in the night
Leaving her shrouded in black
With only a dim glow in sight
She trudges on toward it,
But it goes farther still.
Will she ever make it?
It's too soon to tell.

It's like...
I'm drowning in slow motion.
My eyes are wide open
And everything is glistening
Beautiful.
But I can't enjoy it;
My lungs burn
I can't move.
Paralyzed.
There are people
They're in the water with me
They know I'm there.
I open my mouth
But no one hears.
They can't see
What's happening beneath.
More people enter the water,
My life
And the pool grows deeper
Pushing me further away
From the surface.
Sometimes
Someone will join me
To breathe air into my tires lungs
Because if I die, so does the pool.
Heaven forbid.
On occasion
They place a rock on my chest
Right over my heart
To force me to fight...
But, they forget
I can't move
I...am stuck
Drowning in slow motion
For good.