I’m ****** in the head.
It’s like cancer.
Not cancer of the brain but cancer of the mind.
It sits dormant, eating away everything in sight like a teenager that just got too high.
My chemotherapy doesn’t pump in my veins, it’s choked down my throat, like a shot that’s far too bitter to ever be chased.
Wellbutrin, Xanax, Lamictal, Z-O-L-O-F-T
To hell with the bar, it seems my only cocktail is right here because these ******* doctors tell me that
If I loosen up more than these milligrams untie me,
I might die but what’s the difference between this shot of whiskey and the game of
Russian roulette I play without this bottle of pills?
There are only so many months of grinding teeth and tense jaws and sore necks
And skin that feels like a wildfire that one person can take before the cocktails stop coming
And you’re trying to figure it out yourself between figuring out how to get the blood out of your sheets.
There’s only so much restlessness and trembling hands one woman can take before
The skill of swallowing a punch bowl of pills turns into the skill of performing a plastic
Surgery on that innocent disposable razor.
But then winter rolls by and you realize it’s too hot for those pants and sleeves to hide you.
And even when you stop there’s always questions and eyes that silently judge you.
Brain cancer is easy. Brain cancer garners everyone’s sympathy. Brain cancer is understood.
But mind cancer is a ******* enigma and those scars on your arms, your legs are harder to explain
Than the nausea and vomiting from the cytotoxic car bomb that went straight to your veins
Just like that trusty silver blade did.
The twisted truth is that you’re just as ashamed of those white lines as they are.
And then you learn to say “I’m done with the shame” and realize that
We’re all ****** in the head in our own way.

I always knew I was made of stone,
hardened and scarred by the weather
But with the very weather that tarnished the surface,
The slow erosion is made visible with patience.
These rainstorms eroded and shaped me,
Stripped me down bare and brought an evolution.
Somewhere between the thunder and lightning of the mattress
And the downpour of our hands intertwined
And the gale-force winds of the miles between us,
I cracked.

People always tell you to do what makes you happy, that nothing gets in the way of true joy.
What I've learned is that people will tell you what you want to hear, what makes it easy.
Nothing is ever that easy.
The worst things in life come free to us.
The good things in life all have consequences, there's always a price to pay.
We're all just wandering around, hopelessly hopeful with a veil over our face,
On our knees in front of our saving grace.

You are born into this world, screaming, covered in blood; a fighter.
Day after day, you fight, step by step, word by fractured word.
You fall and scrape your knees, wounds mended by time and a motherly hand.
You lose your teeth, come inside after dark, covered in dirt,
But there is always growing, cleaning, and a lesson learned.
There are bad grades and planning for someday, someday far away.
There are late nights and growing old, aching for a hand to hold.
There is skin between teeth and empty, desperate grasping in the dark.
You will give up pieces of yourself out of fear and let even more be taken.
You will bear bruises and scars and lie awake with someones fingers tangled in your veins.
Your heart will be shattered, met with a flame and reduced to ashes.
You will be broken in every sense of the word and you will have to pick yourself up out of the dirt.
Some days will be sunshine, a good nap, and your favorite song.
Some days you will want to die.
The beat to every life is just this: Fight.
Every day is a struggle, a newcomer in a prize-fighting ring.
But the fight goes on anyway.
Leaving the womb, taking your first steps, speaking your first word.
Your first day of school, losing those you love, losing all you have.
You came into this world a fighter.
*******, don't leave this world giving in.
Fight and go down when the round is over.
You came into this world a fighter.
You should leave it just the same.

Lovers and strangers, we've been both before.
Lately things just aren't the same
And I'd sooner turn to the bottle to find a familiar embrace.
Lately you're just not the same
And I'm not sure where to turn anymore.
I painted a picture of what I thought my life would be
But the colors are running and it's far too gone.
I never learn a lesson but I've memorized the broken stares
From those I used to know and that will always include
You and I.

I don't need to find a reflection to tell you
Where the shadows have settled beneath my tired eyes,
Or where my hair has thinned
Or where my skin has paled.
I can feel this exhaustion deep beneath the sullen expression.
I feel it in my bones, creaking with each movement,
In my stomach, churning and angry.
This is far beyond yesterday's smeared makeup and creased brow.
I have memorized anxiety's poetry on my body like my favorite song.
And while I can never forget the lyrics,
I can take the track off repeat and listen to a new one.

There are fingers tangled in my hair, pulling, grasping.
I breathe, the fingers have moved to my throat, pressing.
Skin on skin; heavy, weighted breaths.
You are the map and the territory.
I feel you under my fingertips, warm and radiating.
A stolen kiss, a pinch of teeth.
I have been here before,
But this is unfamiliar.
I have done this countless times,
but I have never felt so close.