Someday?
Whenever,
If ever.
Memories,
Float and float
Into my brain
My cells bomb
My head is heavy
My thoughts are fast
My heart is pounding
My nerves are aching
My love died
It was burried
Long ago
My past was filled with
Toxicity.
I was manipulated to
Drink poison
I had no idea
It would lobotomize me
Through my adulthood years
I cried
Although, I could not feel
The drops rolling down
My face
Confusion, between
Numbness and misanthropy

I died
I died
Long time ago.

I feel as though I’m floating;
like I’m just going through the motions,
waiting for it to come to an end.
How do you grab hold of something
you can’t see?
Where is my lifeline?
How can I stay when all I want to do
is drift away?
Disappear into the nothingness
consuming me?
Someone tether me to the ground,
I’m ready to give up
and float up into the black abyss
that is my mind.

Teach me how to say goodbye.

Teach me how to let go.

Teach me how to be at peace with myself instead of in pieces.

I don’t know how much longer I can go on like this;
Shattered.

the nurse gave me lidocaine
before she stitched me up.

she told me that it would
help to numb the pain.

I laughed out loud
at the irony.

honey, don't you see?

I'm already numb.

that's why I'm here
needing these stitches
in the first place.

I tell my story so often
that it seems like I've accepted it.
it seems like I'm recovering.

but the truth is,
I've told my story so often
that I am numb to it.

it no longer feels like my story.
I don't feel the fear and the anger
the way that I used to.
it feels like I'm reading a page
out of someone else's biography.

I have learned to convince myself
that this trauma belongs to
someone who isn't me.

when I talk about it,
I speak in a monotone voice.
I don't get emotional anymore
because I am not in pain.
it doesn't hurt to read from a book.

it only hurts
if I let myself realize
that in this book,

I am the main character,
and this is my story.

I am empty,
Out of gas
On a forgotten road
I've reached an impasse.