Some nights feel too heavy. Some nights feel to dark, too lonely. It’s not the nights that are the sole problem. The nights are a reflection of the days. Rarely in my life have I felt as I did this week, these past few weeks. I don’t want this, the burden, the loneliness. Sometimes I […]
When you just need a hug Read More »
I have to see you tomorrow. For the first time since it happened. I didn’t think it would fuck me up this badly. I didn’t think I’d care. I didn’t think it was a big deal. But the contemplation of the lighter in my hand says otherwise. The pull of this bottle of vodka speaks
I couldn’t talk about it. I don’t know how to. I can answer questions, but even that is clumsy and hesitant. I don’t know which way to go here. This isn’t something that’s going to go away. This isn’t a person that I can avoid. My go to response is to ignore and avoid. This
I feel used. I feel unsteady, I feel forgotten. Anxiety has taken its roots. The voices that scream I’m unworthy, unlovable, unnecessary. The voice that’s louder than any other. What’s the point in feeling if there’s there’s no where to go but down? What is the point in talking if all you are is wrong?
I still don’t understand this. If my days convince me it wasn’t that bad, it wasn’t a big deal, and that it was in fact nothing, why do my nights tell me so very drastically otherwise? It either was or it wasn’t. How could there be a grey area? Sober(ish) me is convinced that I’m
It didn’t happened if you drink enough to forget. It didn’t happen if you block it from your mind. It didn’t happen if you so convincingly tell yourself that it didn’t. It didn’t happen if it doesn’t seem like it even possibly could have happened. It didn’t happen if it seems like you’re making too
It didn’t happen, but it did. Read More »
What does it mean when I honestly don’t know what’s okay and what isn’t? I know the difference for other people, there is no grey area there. I know how to treat other people, I can clearly see the boundaries for anyone but myself. I have a firm grasp on right and wrong, appropriate or
If it’s not okay for you, why is it for me? Read More »
FUCK. How much no is no enough? I was uncomfortable. I was touched wayyyy too much. For the first time, maybe not really the first time, safe felt very unsafe. I kept trying to get away. I didn’t want to be touched. No part of me. Not my hand, not my foot, definitely not a
Please don’t touch me Read More »
