I have drawn the unlucky card within life of having friends,
I always befriend people who use me,
break me,
manipulate me,
use my kindness against me
and walk all over me.

This card has served me great moments of loneliness, depression and suicidal thoughts and along with this card, it has made me feel worthless, ugly and alienated.

Friends, have never been by my side in life.
Friends, always end up leaving me in my life.
Friends, constantly abuse me emotionally and made me question myself.

Although the question is, who are you without your friends?

6 feet apart
or
6 feet under

i can't tell which
i'd prefer

“Emotionally Impregnated”
was the phrase that came to mind
when I tried to make sense
of what had happened to me
half way through listening to
the song he had sent

“You know you gave me all the time
Oh, did I give enough of mine?”

It was the unchangeable joining
of thought and feeling that produced
within me a growing emotional experience
that no more asked permission to be
than did any other seed and egg.

“Say you don’t know me anymore
But that’s a bullet on your floor”

I have never been a reliable narrator though
how many negative tests have I produced
even amid ******* that imagined they were swollen
nausea that persisted for days
and blood that stained sheets much later than expected?

Had I just spent the last two years
in an elaborate emotional pregnancy scare?
Had the joining of lyrics
of hungry bodies
of insatiable hearts
produced within me an embryo of empty hope?

Have I sabotaged my own lifeblood
in a desire to force from my womb
some monstrous and malformed product
of what had been lifegiving friendship?

I just want to throw all the ******* pills
Out of the ******* window
But they’re the only things keeping me sane enough
To not slit my wrist open tonight

He sleeps while I lay awake
No news.
I think this is the nature
of boys.
How many times have I lain awake
while a boy I was ******* slept?
Sometimes when you are faced with absurdity
All you can do is sleep.
I think I've made a terrible mistake
but this isn't the first time I've felt
this way.
I am not to be trusted.

I don't think I've slept in nearly two years.
Instead closing my eyes only in the merciful combination of desperation and design.

Last night he went to sleep at 12:03
I listened for his breaths to slow.
I rubbed my feet together
softly;
In near panic.
And didn't turn on Josh Ritter until
12:33.

Aside:
Falling in love =/= being in love
Life is all about lessons. Choices.

🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶
I never felt alone until I met you.
🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶

Not alone like this.

Do you dwell in this space also?
Am I less alone in at least that much?

Sleep softly, babes.

Eyes are bloodshot staring at the alcoholic LEDs,
It would be impossible to rip them off of
The angelic glaze slathered on the screen.
Tears streaming on a face fixed for a permanent smile.
Can’t scream, not s’pposed to.
The eyes are taking in sips of wood alcohol
Littered with food coloring to make it seem like bourbon.
They know it’s not,
The burns all the same.
Eyes sleepless and fried while the screen fries itself.
Maybe it's time to shut them

****** Analysis
by Michael R. Burch

This is not what I need . . .
****-ysis,
paralysis,
as though I were a seed
to be planted,
supported
with a stick and some string
until I emerge.
Your words
are not water. I need something
more nourishing,
like cherishing,
something essential, like love
so that when I climb
out of the lime
and the mulch. When I shove
myself up
from the muck . . .
we can ****.

Originally published by Unlikely Stories. Keywords/Tags: analysis, paralysis, psychoanalysis, words, nourishing, cherishing, essential, love, muck, ****, ***