My parents think it's just the flu.
I guess it could be if love could get you sick.
I feel queasy all the time.
I can't keep food down.
I'm tired and my body aches.
I tremble and shake.
My head pounds and spins.
But it's just the flu right?
No
I may be sick,
but it is nothing that can be cured by a doctor.
No amount of medicine can make this go away.
There is no cure for the hole in my heart.
Do you know what it's like?
I bet you haven't got the slightest clue.
Do you have any idea how hard it is to try to live with a hole in your heart?
To lie on the floor screaming.
Begging for the pain to stop.
Before you know it,
you're racing for the bathroom.
Running to the toliet.
Your stomach hurts from sobbing.
Here comes dinner.
I go back and curl up in bed.
Tired and aching.
Mom comes in and ask if she can do anything.
I just tell her I do not feel well.
Who knew love could make you so sick.
I miss you.
Every time I think of you;
every word you say to me...
it all just makes me sick.
**But it's just the flu right?

I don't want to wake up without you,
Like I've done so many nights before,
I'm sure you can't hear your phone over the music,
I bet the last thing your thinking about is coming home,
I know you're not worried that I'm here alone,
Or about the sounds that wake me up,
I keep staring at the ceiling,
Waiting for your call,
Wondering who'll drive you home,
I guess I should of known what I was getting into,
I met you at a party after all,
You were the life of the party,
The light in the room,
Everyone just watched at you stumbled around,
I thought you'd change your ways,
I thought you'd love me more,
I was so idiotic for believing it to be true,
I'm curled up with a glass of wine,
It's the only thing to calm my nerves,
And tonight I'm praying hard,
That you'll come home tonight.

Emptiness swarms me,
Taunts me in my sleep.
Reminding that I’m alone.
Listing off the reasons.
Telling me there’s something
About me that nobody wants.
I try to decide what it is...
Maybe it’s my sarcasm.
Or the fact that I’m too short.
I’m “cute” but never “beautiful.”
Or my standards are just too high,
But are they, really?
All I want is someone who I can talk to.
Really talk to.
Have a deep conversation about everything.
Someone to trust.
Is it too much to ask?
Emptiness.
It takes me over
When my mind tricks itself
Into thinking I’m happy just how I am.
Taunting me
Until I just can’t sleep anymore.

Fresh red scars lay upon the right side of my stomach.
They weren't too large.
Weren't too deep.
12 lines that  weren't perfectly horizontal.
They let me feel.
Feel the feeling of something else than nothing.

Sore.

I cring as I place my purple tank top on.
Covering the crime that I commit more than once.
During the day I don't even remember them.
Until I place a binder against them.
They scream in pain, I wince just slightly.
Then soon welcoming the pain, yet its comfortable.

Relief.

Even though its not the right way to handle things.
Can you blame me for still wanting to feel?
My life has been a struggle for my entire life.
At first, I thought there was no other way to handle the pain.
Thought I just had to deal and let myself suffer.
But then an idea clicked in my messed up mind.

Razor.

The first time it met my skin, I was nervous.
Scared to see the blood rush down my arm and drip .
It hurt at first, my teeth clenched.
But soon the numb came.
And that's when I knew.
I had made a

Friend.

Sometimes I lay in bed and miss you,
And I remind myself that I shouldn't,
I remind myself that you aren't missing me,
I think about how much you didn't care,
How you destroyed me.
Every night when I'm missing you,
With every fiber of my being,
So hard that the muscles in my stomach hurt,
And my hearts beating fast,
I try to stop and think,
All those nights you stayed up for hours screaming at me,
I try to remind myself that you didn't treat me well,
But in the middle of the night,
When I'm dozing through awake and dreams,
I don't remember those things,
And I'm just laying there,
And I miss you.

A second ago I was 1 hour younger, I remember it well.
The few gray hairs that I have accumulated atop my head, were not there pas' a moment,
This wrinkle in time adding yet another wrinkle to my brow, I have become wiser for it.
My innocence of youth has been unfairly taken, Oh how I long for the days of yestersecond.

I remember the clock set back to maybe a millimeter, my prostate was not quite this large,
And congress with my wife seemed to last for hours, but now mere minutes leaves me spent.
We used to jump into bed and sleep in the ****, seems just an instant ago, but now
The coldness of aging has us encased in flannel pajamas, we sleep dreaming of yestersecond.

I awoke this morning to a brighter outside, the early birds singing, off kilter, unfamiliar;
Not synchronous at all with my hot cup of Kona, I scratch my chin anew with stubble.
For in such a short time, the moon waved forlornly goodbye, the sun bid faintly hello.
Mr. Meowgii, my cat, chasing the birds outside, thankful for the passing gift of yestersecond.

My kids, now practically grown, (9 & 13 +60 minutes) I envision car keys being handed over,
Challenges to my authority, relationships of their own, with the passage of this long hour.
"For The Times; They Are A-Changin" - Dylan -, though now for a clock he would sing.
A hiccup in the fabric of the space time continuum, indigestion of memories made I search.

Looking forward, come October late fall, when we all can regress, yet again,
Reclaiming what we have lost, one hour from yestersecond.

-----ChawzzyScript

Before you surrender yourself
to someone else,
think first if that someone
is deserving enough
to take care of your everything.