some days I pretend carry no change in them
I pretend in the twenty four hours elapsed, nothing consequential has happened

I pretend that my recovery is unthreatened,
I pretend therapy will work
I pretend nothing inside me has broken
(at least, not beyond repair)

other days, willingly or unwillingly, I remember
change change change
comes back to me like a fire from the past
feeling hotter than it might've back then
here i am drawing it back from what i feared it would feel like
and never really let myself feel
so how am i to know it would've hurt like this back then?
only a guess i suppose
but I go with it, embrace it
reflection is a memory and I think about her once I see her all day
can't bear to look at any new one, the one I might call myself today
the one I need to recognize as myself
but can't bring myself to

here's a confession for no ears, about the bad years
about the longing that so strongly defines my days

i suffocate every few days, lose myself every few hours
then decide to keep going.

this, at least in theory, is a nice thought.
a year ago i never thought to believe i had it in me to live any sort of life, have any kind of continuity.

the latter is still true. i still don't know how to keep going in a straight line. my best friend tells me healing is not linear. so i've embraced it

learned to go up and down and be okay with it