I've been the best friend,
the girlfriend,
the villain,
and the victim.
now I don't know who to become.

I miss the feelings I got from being high,
of belonging to the static in my mind.
I miss closing my eyes and just thinking,
waking up without a memory of anything
besides a feeling I only ever got with a pill
or two or ten,
but now I'm beside myself
feeling things I can't verbalize without beating the words to death,
and I can't handle any more death,
lost all my energy after creating a eulogy for everyone I tried to be.
all the butterflies in my stomach are words I swallowed once upon a time,
choked them down,
choked on them,
and I'm still trying to cough them out
all this time later.
I know breathing exercises,
but I don't think those matter when I can't catch my breath.
some things never change.

When I drive, I spend more time looking in the rearview mirror than I do in front of me.
No, that isn’t a metaphor, I mean it literally.
It’s more appealing to live in memories, forget the trauma as it’s happening.
I may never change, but I like living in the illusion of safety.

I have magic in me.
I can change my memories
to see myself differently.

The arms of a stranger feel like home when they hold you just right.
I saw the devil in his eyes;
I knew he had a past deeper than I could comfortably swim,
but none of that matters when “home” feels like more than just a word again.
I wanted to feel this feeling before it forgot me
but time wouldn’t slow and I couldn’t go
anywhere at all without him holding me down.
why didn’t I just stay home?

A pin dropped onto my carpet, but I thought it was a body hitting the floor,
ran to check the front door, stopped to watch the cars’ light show.
I found no danger but had to check again when I heard a voice two rooms and a floor away whisper,
“You don’t need to sleep;” it felt like a dream.
I laid back down. All the lullabies I sing when babysitting taste like caffeine.
I lie in bed, in between awake and asleep, somewhere between nightmares and reality.
The light switch won’t turn off, the sun is right in my eyes,
I thought sleep was supposed to come naturally.

I hadn't yet grown into my body
or my mind,
but I never had the time
to worry about it.
I guess I can see it now
when I keep my eyes open,
and I remember it was such a hard habit to stop
sleeping with one eye open,
and I'm afraid of going back.
I know my mind is pretty enough
when I imagine a garden
and even though it might be dying,
I'll plant plastic flowers.
will anyone notice the difference?