I was floating in honey. The viscosity of the substance Made it so that, while I still needed to work To keep my head afloat, I had a little extra support. So I didn't have to do it alone. And it was good.
But my temperature began to rise. I became too hot too fast, and, Because of my actions I started to destroy the beneficial parts That the honey needed to remain useful and healthy. So the honey reacted: Threw my melting self out of its jar. I tried to jump back in But the honey firmly ******* its lid back on, And my charring fists Fruitlessly pounded on the boundary The honey had erected.
Then as my body and brain burned, The other honey jars disappeared- Distancing in acts of self-preservation. I knew how I could get my temperature Back to baseline. I just needed a little help So I could work to get back to my normal self. But my actions had pushed away what I needed. So I accepted the fate I had caused, And allowed my body to fall to ash.
i wrote this after my therapist of 8ish years dropped me after two years of long-term residential pysch places just when i was ready to drop back down to the level of care she provided. that was 2 years ago, and although i've since learned that her remaining with me for so long was unethical, it still hurts and i still blame myself.