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Today I woke up so depressed,                                                       ­                   so I took the day to rest                                                             ­                            I think it's time I hit reset                                                            ­                    change my whole mind set                                                              ­                   The sun came up anyway                                                           ­                            So I made some plans for the day                                                                         I needed to get up and get away                                                             ­keeping my demons at bay                                                              ­                        I decided to go for a walk                                                             ­                        It's time God and I had a talk                                                             ­            and just getting outside                                                          ­                      left me feeling alive inside                                                          Dear God,  thank you so much                                                             You  make me feel good enough                                                           ­                As  I stand in the sunlight                                                         ­                             I feel like I'm in your spotlight                                                        ­               You hear me every time I cry                                                              ­          you dry my tears now I know why                                                              ­      You  are the only person who                                                              ­           can make me feel  this brand new
I was faced with a choice when I met you                                                    you came in with an X and were someone new                                                              ­                                                              I was with a guy, but I wanted you                                                              ­ now I pay the price for breaking all the rules                                                     I broke the heart of a good man                                                              ­    didn't see him in my future plans                                                            ­      but **** ,the lessons I have learned                                                          ­   loving you was like being burned                                                           ­      I had never loved anyone before                                                           ­             gave you my all and so much more                                                                        I gave more than I could afford                                                           ­     until I finally shut that door                                                             ­                    I wonder who I could have been                                                             ­               I know now that we weren't meant                                                            ­        I worked so hard to be your number one                                             when I was already that to someone
And I'm cold in my bed
Tired
Pillow covered in tears because that's where they're used to falling
And I just want to be loved

And I know I am by my friends
And my family
But I want to be stuck in someone's head
And I want them to rub my arm and make me a little bit less cold
And maybe have my tears land on their shoulder instead

I want to be the poem and not the poet for once
Ice
Slices through heat 
Similar to sewing scissors on lace
Destabilising 
Equilibrium 
With a casual, cool, calm collectedness,
As if nothing could 
Pierce its particles;
Ruffle its feathers,
Unsync its code.
I dress pretty feminine I guess
I mean I think I do
But the thought of being called a them makes me smile too

I love dresses
They're comfortable
I feel confident
Or at least more than I do in sweatpants
But sometimes I hate the circular things on my chest
Part of me wishes they were something else
But I'm a girl
Yes yes
Probably

Yeah
I love putting eyeshadow on
The colors make me happy guess
But then again
Part of me really wants to cut my hair short
Have a deep voice
And when someone calls me a she
The tiniest part of me wishes I wouldn't be
Probably nothing right?

But I don't really know
I don't think I'm right there in the middle
That's for sure
After all I like skirts
But I also sit like a guy sometimes
And it feels good
It feels in between
But no no no
I'm probably not
This is probably nothing
Probably

Most of me loves my name
I mean I know it's pretty
It's a vine
It's beautiful
It's nature
I love nature
But it's so feminine
But I guess it's okay
It's probably okay
I think this is fine
Whatever
I'm probably overreacting anyway
I don't need this now too

I'm a girl
That's what I've always been
Probably
Probably
Probably
Never wrote any of these thoughts, ever. Always too scared that if I did they would become real. Never told anyone either. I don't know, but I'm THINKING just THINKING about experimenting with some really close friends calling me they/them but I'm mostly too scared so I'm probably not. After all this is probably nothing, right? Probably
There’s a monster living under my skin,
It hums lullabies in a voice like sin.
It doesn’t scream. It doesn’t roar.
It just waits... behind the door.

It’s soft-spoken, wears my smile,
Walks in my steps, stays awhile.
It knows the cracks behind my eyes,
Where all the dead dreams lie.

It isn’t sharp—it’s patient and slow,
It dances in places no one should go.
It sips on memories like bitter wine,
And chews on thoughts that once were mine.

It curls around my mother’s name,
And whispers that I’m just the same.
It counts the days I’ve held my breath,
Then offers comfort dressed like death.

People say, “You’re healing now,”
But they don’t see the sacred vow—
Me and it, we made a truce,
It feeds on pain—I stay the noose.

I try to scream, but it just grins,
Wearing my face like borrowed skin.
And every time I think I’m free,
It locks the door and swallows me.

You wouldn’t know it to look in my eyes—
But something in me never dies.
I laugh. I love. I play pretend...
But the monster’s always watching…
waiting…
for the end.
I can be obsessive. For instance, last night I needed a command hook.
My mind couldn’t focus on “Principles of Biostatistics,” as fascinating as that book is, because I needed this $3 command hook to hang my keys by the door.

There’s a table by the door, I could easily put my keys there, but no. That’s where books go (am I too picky?). What’s funny is, I’d just been reading about ‘bias mitigation,' ya know, science is everywhere.

Still, I searched the boxes that I hadn’t unpacked
I looked around them too, did one fall in a crack?
Did I have one to begin with? I couldn’t keep track.

I texted Charles (across the hall), “do you have a command hook?”
“A what?” he replied. So I texted his wife, who went to look.
When she didn’t have one, I went back to my book.

The chapter was about ‘probability distributions as tools for managing uncertainty.’ How topical, here I was, uncertain about when I’d get that command hook. Never mind an indifferent God, science is obviously listening.

It was nearly midnight. I wondered, how late Door-Dash delivered?
Would they bring my hook or were there other services I should consider?
What about Amazon, Target or WalMart—could one of those be a winner?

In the end I had to do without—I gave up at 1am.
The miracle of capitalism had failed me—****.

I could study with the hook off my mind. So, I set an Alexa reminder,
an alarm on my watch and alerts on my iPhone and MacBook finder,
then I wrote a pink post-it note, and put that on my epidemiology binder.

I have a standing, pre-dawn jog with Charles, and an idea forming.
If we passed an open convenience store, I could buy one in the morning!
.
.
Songs for this:
I Want You by Bob Dylan
I need you by Jon Batiste
I can't close my eyes
tears gather.
I can't breathe
the air is stuck.
I can't gulp
my throat is tight.

I try to plant my dream,
but land is
barren

Still, I try.
Even my conscience
mocks me.
It’s that moment when giving up feels easier, everything is against you;
but you can’t, because giving up just isn’t you.
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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