Jan 2018
Exhausting.
The last drips from the shower are plummeting down the drain as I focus on the slurping noise the water makes as it cascades down the old buildings plumbing. Exhausting.
As my lower back aches, my toes squirm, the pulsing beat behind my eyes hums along to the same rhythmic migraine it’s been stuck in for the better part of the last five years.
Exhausting.
The nervous tick of sweat beads down my back while my mind whirls through scenarios, ways I could have been better, ways he could be thinking about me, how soon this will all end because,
Exhausting.
Remembering the day I sat in the dim room
“Anyone ever told you, you’re bi-polar?”
The relief the explanation laid out in front of me,
the look of pity on his face.
“You suffer from years of PTSD, this is going to take a life time to conquer.”
Exhausting.
“With your chronic illness, this is going to be an uphill battle, each flare up will set you back.”
Exhausting.
“Of course, we cannot medicate you with your other medications.”
Exhausting.
“Please call the suicide hotline the next time you feel that way.”
Exhausting.
The way the same cut and dry of cold desolation their turned back screams as I play victim to a mental illness I’ve never bothered to master.
Exhausting.
As I play victim to a physical illness that never subsides.
Exhausting.
As I ride out the same perils each lover faces while they face me, naked, dripping, towel wrapped around my hair, gritting my teeth with a Iknowwewerejokingbutpleasedontcallmethat
Exhausting.
It’d be easier if I was dying, it’d ward them off quicker, give them a time limit they could count on.
“I love her but I can’t handle these mood swings, I never know what to say around her, I can’t keep doing this if this is all it will ever be.”
Exhausting.
As each partner holds a seance, brings up every dead lover they can muster and finds all the right avenues to trigger, poke, ****, promise, and be gone.
Exhausting.
I’m here, until your mania isn’t quirky, I’m here until your mania directly effects me, I’m here until you become a mirror to everything I fear.
Exhausting.
The last drips from the shower are plummeting down the drain as I focus on the slurping noise the water makes as it cascades down the old buildings plumbing. Exhausting.
As my lower back aches, my toes squirm, the pulsing beat behind my eyes hums along to the same rhythmic migraine it’s been stuck in for the better part of the last five years.
Exhausting.
The nervous tick of sweat beads down my back while my mind whirls through scenarios, ways I could have been better, ways he could be thinking about me, how soon this will all end because,
Exhausting.
Remembering the day I sat in the dim room
“Anyone ever told you, you’re bi-polar?”
The relief the explanation laid out in front of me,
the look of pity on his face.
“You suffer from years of PTSD, this is going to take a life time to conquer.”
Exhausting.
“With your chronic illness, this is going to be an uphill battle, each flare up will set you back.”
Exhausting.
“Of course, we cannot medicate you with your other medications.”
Exhausting.
“Please call the suicide hotline the next time you feel that way.”
Exhausting.
The way the same cut and dry of cold desolation their turned back screams as I play victim to a mental illness I’ve never bothered to master.
Exhausting.
As I play victim to a physical illness that never subsides.
Exhausting.
As I ride out the same perils each lover faces while they face me, naked, dripping, towel wrapped around my hair, gritting my teeth with a Iknowwewerejokingbutpleasedontcallmethat
Exhausting.
It’d be easier if I was dying, it’d ward them off quicker, give them a time limit they could count on.
“I love her but I can’t handle these mood swings, I never know what to say around her, I can’t keep doing this if this is all it will ever be.”
Exhausting.
As each partner holds a seance, brings up every dead lover they can muster and finds all the right avenues to trigger, poke, ****, promise, and be gone.
Exhausting.
I’m here, until your mania isn’t quirky, I’m here until your mania directly effects me, I’m here until you become a mirror to everything I fear.
Exhausting.
