I'm stuck feeling for something that doesnt exsist
A dream I lost consciousness in too hard
The waking world doesnt feel the emotions I have
Words no language could begin to describe
They were artificial and simulated
But still the most I've felt in a long time

I had so much to say I wrote it on paper, folded it in a square until I couldnt anymore, and sealed it in a bottle
When I dropped it in the ocean I thought nothing of it--
Thought nothing of who would answer or where it would end up
A part of me believing it would break and sink to be unanswered forever
Theses bottles
These messages
My secret.
I can tell you, the ocean, the river, the stream
I can whisper my words into your waters.
Hope comforting that they will evaporate in time
And rain down again
An answer in their downpour

She asked why I loved the rain
I didnt know what to say

A part of me longs to be alone
A part of me fears to be sitting in my suffering
Clawing my hands through dirt
Nails ***** and filled with grime
I'm trying to reach the clay
I think if I dig far enough
Past all the heavily packed imperfections
I can break it up and move it enough to find the one thing that I can form and hold to my will
I can change myself into what I truly want to be
I'll spin the wheel and make something beautiful
When you use it please think of me

I stitched for years
Pricking my fingertips until they bled
A slow steady bead of red rising to the surface
Reminding me I'm human time again
But still I stitched
Thread into thread
Feather into feather
These wings supposed to make me fly
Taking much longer than I estimated
How large they needed to be to support me
To carry me into a place where I could break apart the universe and understand it better
But when that time came to jump I couldn't
The fear of falling so much more terrifying than the prospect of rising
And I guess if Icarus can walk then so can I

I dont like confrontation.
In fact I will do almost anything to avoid it if I can
Thats probably what makes me a good manager-- because I'm able to diffuse a situation before it becomes one
That's also probably why I let the trash pile up on the patio for weeks until we recieved an eviction notice
Because I'm scared of confrontation

I'm scared to tell you it hurts me that I've done the dishes the last 3 times because you wont put in a maintenance request to fix the dishwasher but I can't because you want to be here when someone comes.
I'm scared to tell you I hate that I'm the only one who takes out the trash because you ***** and gag if you touch a trash bag
Well I'm gagging too, but it has to be done because we're adults.
I'm always so happy when I come home and find the trash to be gone only to open the pantry and find the bags there. Only to open the balcony door and find the trash there.
Now that I think about it, you always complain that you'll throw up if you do it and I think that's a form of gaslighting.
I'm scared to tell you that instead of buying supplies to make cobbler when we had no food in the house, you should have bought basic materials to eat or god forbid a plunger because your toilets been clogged for 3 weeks and you have to use mine.

I'm scared to tell you I hate your rabbit and the fact that it chewed up 4 of my phone chargers, my echo plug, my laptop cord, vaccum, and is now tearing up my carpet. Oh also the fact that it's YOUR rabbit and I had to buy you hay when you were running low, but you could buy another fish tank we dont have room for.

I'm scared to tell you these habits of yours are bothering me because you're no longer lucid and I think you're slightly addicted---but everytime your boyfriend brings that up you complain.

I'm scared of confrontation. So tonight I made 4 trips to the dumpster at 2am filling my car up with garbage bag after garbage bag because I was embarrassed of how much trash we had and I didn't want the neighbors to hear or see.

I told you I was doing it at that time expecting your help, but instead you told our guest you'd waited all day for me to do it and took a trazodone and fell asleep.

Tomorrow I can already tell I'll have to wear my braces and use my cane.

Tomorrow I'll wake with baggy eyes from a sleepless night of anger of frustration of worry of tears from the fear that comes with the confrontation of the text I sent you asking you to please take out the last of the 3 trash bags by the door.

I'm waiting for the excuses.

I'm no longer asked what I want to be when I grow up
That question has changed into what I wanted to be as if my young 21 year old self is out of time, is out of drive, is out of dreams because I work retail
Three time college dropout doesnt show much promise for dreams
Three time college dropout can't handle the pressure of school
If you just had a degree you'd be further in life
A lie my parents pounded into my head
My neighborhood white, and judging, and privileged,
And I'm not disregarding that or am denying my privilege, but it made me feel like I was supposed to be more than what I am
Never living up to the expectations of suburbia
Parents not understanding how someone who had so many opportunities could destroy them all and work retail
I destroyed them all but not by choice
It was a decision made a gunpoint, hands leaving fingerprints slowly bruising my throat, air choked out my answer with tears in my eyes that I would fail in yours
I had asked for help
But my privilege should have been all the help I needed
The opportunities and material items subsidizing serotonin
How could anyone with all this be depressed?
A counselor once asked me where I saw my future and I told her I didnt think I'd have one.
What's the point in planning for a future where that spot on the timeline was already ripped off the page
Life ending too soon
Too abruptly to allow for any success
My success is being here today, alive, and breathing, medicated for some feeling other than emptiness and my parents come and visit my bare apartment with judging eyes
I call them more often than not to ask for some help---pay for a doctor's appointment here, cover some rent there, my car insurance is coming up and I dont even know what agent we use and can you cover it because I'm still trying to get on my feet
Recently my body started to deteriorate
My right side joints failing with some unknown illness I had to walk with braces and a cane
I couldn't go to the doctor because I dont have insurance
But I'm not sure if what I'm seeking at this point is medical or emotional


I'm scared to talk to you because I work retail

It's been 6 days
My hair is in a greasy knot kept semi presentable with dry shampoo
My skin breaking out like I'm going through puberty
My legs and armpits constantly hidden because I dont trust myself enough with a blade to only shave.
It's been 6 days
My towels are hanging right where they should be
My toiletries glaring at me from the edge of the tub
I cant bring myself to step over that threshold
It's been 6 days
And I know if I attempt I wont be able to stand
Instead sitting in the dark while water too hot blasts this punishment into my back for abandoning it for too long
I can always pretend my life is together
Fridge full, makeup neat, bills paid
From the outside I look like I'm doing fine
But I know the truth
And it's been 6 days