there is no direction in front of me
holistic practices aren’t useful
neither is your classic dose of lamictal
it isn’t the change of weather
or the gust of autumn causing it
it’s the torment of knowing who i am
two decades of trials and tribulations
to find a new way to cope
i’ve grown past razors and alcohol
we’ve moved into noticeable harm
broken teeth, ripped skin, no more nails to bite
we’ve landed on addiction in my lungs
nothing will feel better
to simply put it: i’m sad
i don’t know why and it isn’t going to change
you can unpack your trauma
and hang it up like old clothes from vacation
it doesn’t change that it is still here
i’ll stare at it from the bed that suffocates me