a voidless ache,
underlying everything.
it's worse
if you have already met before.
because despite it's dullness
at times...
you are constantly reminded
of how deep it can feel.
the only emotion
to cut through the space between
the emotional and physical.
the only emotional agony
to bring me to my knees...
gripping my chest...
i wish i'd die already.
but it's slow and methodical...
i don't want to be human anymore.

I wish heartbreak
came with a manual.
But honestly,
would it even help?
I imagine it would
be contradicting and maybe
go something like this:
"You may experience
the feeling that you are walking away
from the rarest love you'll ever experience...
But don't you worry,
because even if you stay a little longer,
eventually you'll convince yourself
you don't love them anymore, just enough to finally
end it.
Give it a week.
Oh, there it is... You feel that?
THAT feeling is the numbness wearing off
and only remembering the happy parts."
Or some ******* like that.
Probably nothing that specific though...
Only enough to have the majority relate.
I imagine the narrator would sound
overly enthusiastic...Which is hilariously inappropriate ...
But, really, is it that hilarious?

I thought getting older and
having experience in dating
would result in all of this
**** becoming less confusing...
But it really just feels worse
every time for me.
At the end,
I couldn't even differentiate
the pain and anger from the source.
Did he create this suffering?
Was it my reaction that set the course?
Was this all in my head and I was just overeacting?
Or was I justified to feel this ******?
Even if I was justified, would it have even made a difference?
It really got lost in translation,
and I feel like I got lost in identifying that.
Was this a hypnotic trance from narcissism manipulating the narration or was it using my reaction as an excuse to self-sabotage?
I just want to know what really happened.
I think that's the scariest part.
Am I so broken, I convince myself it was them?
Well, ****.
What are you still reading for?
I don't have the ******* answer.

this feeling is my familiar,
it’s rooted in life.
cocooned inside of it,
i am it’s prisoner.
a paradox, a willing disbelief
that hardens and worsens the ability to breathe.
i fight and i don’t feel any difference,
i can’t see any change.
i rinse, repeat
and the only growth i seem to feel is the growth of lost hope.
but one day
the cocoon becomes so tight
and dehydrated around my body.
you can make out my silhouette.
it cracks and i see a light.
come to find
despite darkness the entire time…
nearing the end…
i have metamorphosed.
learning that sometimes you don’t know how much you’ve evolved until you have completely gone THROUGH the loneliest time of your life.
now I have a strange appreciation
for the darkness,
because i have learned more in that time-frame than any other point in life.
i am lucky to be someone who can grow in those moments…some never will.

Sometimes… I really think,
truly think,
I want to be dumb and
succumb to the numb.
Being above-average
in self-awareness and
awareness in general
is a curse.
I can appreciate
the complexities and intricacies
in every day life…But
****,
do I feel so alone…
Because everybody else
seems pretty
content with average.

I have truly come so far
in my life.
I look back and recognize
the wisdom I have obtained from past mistakes.
I can appreciate and truly enjoy how much learned behavior
I have undone.
I have a long way to go, though.
I honestly didn't even realize it
until I fell in love and got sober.
It's hard to not want to rush my growth
when I see my toxic traits affecting the people I truly love.
I want to change overnight, but
I know it's not like that...
But I feel so ******
when I overuse "I'm Sorry."
Please, hold on.
I'm getting better.
I hope you see it, but this is me telling you
I can feel and see it internally.
I'm ready for therapy...
I think it will make me progress faster.
I'm ready to make an appointment
and go.
Just like I did for my addiction.
That's the next step.
I have removed the crutch...
Now it's time to heal the wound.
If the hospital bed is my drug addiction...
Then therapy is my cure.

Tired of people [typically men]
telling me to smile.
Why the **** would
I need you to
tell me?
Did you think
I forgot?
Let's allow
all of our feelings.
They exist for a reason...
And I hate to admit it,
but pain is when I have grown the most.
I love who I'm growing into.
Let's not shun
the bad ones.
We need them.
So...
******* laugh,
or get mad.
Cry a river
or lay in bed.
Feel them all,
because
they are needed.
Let them pass
and be on their way.
Don't pretend
or they'll never go away...
So, next time you tell me to
S M I L E,
how about you just
get the
*******
away from me.
I'd rather *****
than have you
mold me
into your little
*******
barbie.