"I Wish I Was A Fridge"

I trust no one,
But I agree to see you;
You come every six weeks,
To see anything new.

I hardly know you,
I saw you last year;
I've seen others since then,
I know im difficult - thats clear.

But you came back again,
because there's no one else,
I have to trust you again,
When I dont trust myself.

But should I really trust you?
Or are you the same?
I hadnt seen you for so long
..i'd forgotten your name.

You ask me to explain,
And I try my best,
To explain whats in my head,
All the confusion and the rest.

I tell you everything,
With paper and pen;
Absolutely everything,
over and over again.

Then you say you cant help me,
So I feel even worse,
You say you are not a therapist,
I should have remembered that first.

All you care about
is whats in my fridge;
You go into my kitchen,
and check out my fridge.

Well the fridge is fine,
It might not be full,
But it has milk and leftovers,
...I wish it had wine too!!

You come here and visit,
And then I feel worse;
For I trusted you with things,
I should have thought again first.

For you cannot help me,
Why do you come?
My fridge is always quite happy,
My fridge is having great fun.

It has no nervous system,
No brain, no spinal cord;
Its incapable of "feeling"
Or trusting in the Lord.

You come all this way,
To look at my fridge,
You come here from Lamlash,
And check out my fridge.

I am clearly a failure,
As its always the same;
The fridge is just fine,
The pain is in my brain.

I wont see you again
for quite a while;
But I cannot promise
to put on a smile.

But my fridge will be fine,
I can promise you that;
If only I was a fridge...
...does anyone else feel like that?!

I shall get out some pens,
And draw a big smiley face;
Stick it on my fridge,
Just for you and your "fridge case".

I wish I was a fridge too, could put in and take out what I choose;
But im not an inanimate object - im a human being,
And I do often wonder....what got me into this state ...in the beginning.

All the best...with love...from the fridge :/ x

think happy thoughts they say,
and the bad ones will disappear.
and my question to you is how?
how am I supposed to stay happy,
when my thoughts are telling me that i'm
a **** up,
a mess,
a ****,
an idiot,
a *****,
a fatty,
ugly,
a failure,
and i'm never gonna succeed?

just tell me how

is it by completely hiding the fact,
that i have not-so-great thoughts?
is it by spilling out my thoughts,
to a person in a white coat,
so they can write it down on a clipboard,
and give me happy pills?

because it's not that easy.
yet people tell me every day,
it's not hard.
i just chuckle at them and say,
you don't understand.

thank you
for the time you dedicated to me
even though it ended in a **** show
thank you
for the reassuring words that you offered
when i couldnt offer them up to myself
but
i will never thank you
for the betrayal i felt
when you canceled on me
or wouldnt let me leave the psych hospital,
lied to my face,
told me one thing, then someone else another
and when you gained my trust after i TOLD you it was so hard for me to give away,
and you ripped it to shreds
i will never ever ever thank you for the pain i felt when you gave up on me
or didnt respond to my pleas
my cries of help
when you told me i was seeking attention
and when i looked at you dead in the eye with a pain greater than both you or i know, and you never spoke to me again.
i was running down that street and you called my name, but you didnt tell me to stop.
thank you for your kind eyes
the way you tried to understand
and often, you did
but ******* for all the times your kind eyes werent so kind behind closed doors
when you went home to your lover at night and didnt think twice of me
for the times i needed you and you couldnt provide it to me
you didnt give me validation
because when something is on fire and you want to put it out you throw on water, but you added fuel.
the fire kept growing
i burnt.
and you watched.
so if you committed arson and werent caught, did it ever even matter in the first place?

My therapist asked what am I,
Tryna hide.
I tried to answer,
But instead I cried.
My therapist asked again,
I stay quiet,
So I’m not condemned.
My therapist stayed quiet,
Until I couldn’t fight it.
I don’t want to sound like I’m complaining,
But ill get explaining.

One glass is all it takes,
To numb the pain.
Two glasses is all it takes,
To stop the tears from falling again and again.
Three glasses is all it takes,
To hold up what I cant contain.
Four glasses is all it takes,
To ignore my current mistakes.

Rejection after rejection,
I cant face it.
I feel wasted,
frustrated.
They say don’t get aggravated,
Stay motivated.
Get situated.
The fight isn’t over,
You cant be defeated.
I don't believe it.