my mother says i have an addictive personality, that i become addicted to people and places and routines. i become so intrinsically intertwined with them that i can no longer differentiate between the parts of me and the pieces i've picked up along the way. i love obsessively, captivated entirely.

my grandmother gave me a diamond necklace for my 18th birthday. i haven't taken it off since. i wear it all day, at the gym, in the shower, chain strung around my neck like a noose. i will wear it until the clasp digs into the back of my neck, skin melding around it like a tree branch growing through a chain link fence. i will wear it to bits, until there is nothing left. i can't accept jewellery as a gift anymore because how could i ever take off this necklace. i don't know when to give it a rest, let it breathe.

i latch onto people, lose myself in their mediocre attention, and watch as my personality slips through their fingers until i have nothing left of myself to offer. i pick bits of people and places out from underneath my nails, storing them in my bedside drawer with 21 years of cards and broken jewellery.

i am absolutely suffocating.

I am adversary.
Hear me roar.
I take your kindness.
I’m its wild boar.
In sheep’s clothing.
I shall creep.
Into your mind.
Just not too deep.

Abstract pain in my head,
Feels like darkness
Clawing its way out
Wish I didn’t have this human form.
Cursed with absurd anatomy
Aforementioned abstract become acute
Developed a significant suffering
I wish to endure it in private
Unsee this aspect of humanity.
Regain my normal again

Should have known,
The only one, trying for years.
That giving all of myself
To someone who is empty
Will only render me,
Similarly.

olney transportation center.

i put my bag down in the plastic seat next to me and allow the cool musty subway air envelope my senses. the lights are too fluorescent, **** they’re bright. my chest fills with pressure, the cap at my throat holding on desperately to stay put, stay tight. don’t scream. my breath is getting harder now. why do they even hang out with that person? it doesn’t make sense to me. my music gets louder in my ears, smooth bossa nova pounding brain waves. focus on the lyrics. they make me too angry. my lungs are struggling to hang onto the air, it’s coming in and out of my nostrils too fast. my throat is getting too dry, but my water bottle is too heavy. i don’t want to pick it up, i want to keep thinking. why won’t they just listen to me? why won’t they see things my way? how long is this song? it seems like it’s been forever. i’ve passed galaxies and worlds in this subway tunnel, the stars too fast for my eyes to grasp. i can’t think my way out of this one. no amount of thoughts flying around my head can fix the necessity of simply doing nothing. my hand is forced to be empty. i need to bluff. it’s way too bright in here.

logan.

thank god this song is over. i’m going to do homework instead. i don’t like this song very much, but i’m not going to change it. maybe i should turn off the music so i can read better.

wyoming.
hunting park.
erie.
allegheny.

i think i’ll be home soon. i don’t like what they did today, i should listen to my mom more. my eyes are really heavy, i wish i went to bed earlier today. maybe i’ll take a nap when i get home.

susquehanna dauphin.
cecil b. moore.

i don’t like this stop today.

girard.

time is back up to speed. maybe i’ll go to chinatown, buy some moon cakes. the mid autumn festival passed already, i wish i could’ve gone. i don’t really care for half of the things i say i like. maybe it’s a labor of love, to lie about liking something. or maybe i just don’t have the ability to say i don’t like something. but i know i dislike things. i dislike how bright these lights are, ****. my migraine is getting stronger. i want to go home. i am going home.

fairmount.

my throat feels like a desert. time to put my phone down. my head hurts too much.