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Katsa Nov 2014
Yes, I should go see a counselor...
My father died recently and I can't tell if I'm coping or not.

Yes, I should probably take anxiety medication...
Or something, because these nightmares have been going on for a month straight.

Yes, I should go see a doctor instead of ignoring the obvious cries of distress from my body...
Except I can't right now because work cut my hours and I've lost my health insurance.

Yes, I should not cut myself...
Which I haven't for a long time, but I still get the urge every time I get stressed.

Yes, I should not throw up...
Which I don't really do anymore, because I found someone who claims to like my body the way it is.

Yes, I should not be me...
Because I want to experience more of this world, and I can't if I'm stuck.

Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.
                                                            ­                                             But I am
I wrote Self Contained Arguments about 2 years ago, and reflecting on it recently inspired me to produce this updated version. Things haven't progressed the way I'd hoped they would, but since I've always been a realist I'm sure past me wouldn't be too surprised to hear that.
Katsa Dec 2013
My gift wrapping skills
Are still quite mediocre
I'd really rather not...
Katsa Dec 2013
And it feels like
We're on the brink of something incredible.
I need your steady breath behind me as I lie awake at night
A gentle metronome, to solace me
      as   the twisting
        root of doubt
                                   in the darkness
   from neuron
                  to neuron
         Choking me wi th anxiety
until                bre    athing
                            be     comes    a
              d      istant
                ­                             y

But It's then
That I lean back
Against your chest
To touch the ebb and flow,
The rise and fall,
The simple, solid rhythm
Of your soul keeping time;
The only constant i'll ever need
Is You and Me.
Katsa Dec 2013
There's a light flickering in the attic
                                     The shutters,
                                               They creak and they clack
There's a knife in my sheath
                            There's a horror
                                                              ­       Where we're going
                                                                ­           there's no coming back...
               There's a terrible plot that's unfolding
                                      A machinist we may never see

Chilling shrieks and shrill screams
                                  "So much worse than my dreams."
                                                        ­       ...
                                            They're just parts now;
                                                  Silent. Company.
Katsa Sep 2013
The waves of blood run over me,
Like water through my hair.
The crimson tide comes rushing in
But I do not feel fear.
For I am just a little cell,
Clinging to the walls.
Arteries, veins, and ventricles
**A ****** wave of awe.
Katsa Sep 2013
Look down from the skies
There is ash upon your brow
The colors toxic
I meant to put this up a while ago.
Katsa Jun 2013
I can't begin to tell you what it's like day after day
To sit about and wonder: Where'm I going? What's the way?
For me, every path is dark; they're shrouded from my eyes,
By the fog that's been a hindrance since I was young and realized
That the people all around me once had plans and wants and dreams,
That they'd craved fame and riches and had aspired to genius schemes,  
They'd recall their greatest childhood hopes and I slowly learned
That somehow, Disappointment was the only thing they'd earned.
This or that had stopped them from achieving their potential
And by and by they'd lost sight of goals once held essential.
In all their lives, whether young or old, the story was the same
great plummeting falls from such lofty heights, and the world was to blame.
Not all of them were bitter, some accepted it as fate
I'd wished they'd never told me, but by then it was too late,
To plug my ears and never learn that I can never win
And so my dreaming heart died, and reality set in.
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