thank you
for the time you dedicated to me
even though it ended in a **** show
thank you
for the reassuring words that you offered
when i couldnt offer them up to myself
but
i will never thank you
for the betrayal i felt
when you canceled on me
or wouldnt let me leave the psych hospital,
lied to my face,
told me one thing, then someone else another
and when you gained my trust after i TOLD you it was so hard for me to give away,
and you ripped it to shreds
i will never ever ever thank you for the pain i felt when you gave up on me
or didnt respond to my pleas
my cries of help
when you told me i was seeking attention
and when i looked at you dead in the eye with a pain greater than both you or i know, and you never spoke to me again.
i was running down that street and you called my name, but you didnt tell me to stop.
thank you for your kind eyes
the way you tried to understand
and often, you did
but ******* for all the times your kind eyes werent so kind behind closed doors
when you went home to your lover at night and didnt think twice of me
for the times i needed you and you couldnt provide it to me
you didnt give me validation
because when something is on fire and you want to put it out you throw on water, but you added fuel.
the fire kept growing
i burnt.
and you watched.
so if you committed arson and werent caught, did it ever even matter in the first place?

My therapist asked what am I,
Tryna hide.
I tried to answer,
But instead I cried.
My therapist asked again,
I stay quiet,
So I’m not condemned.
My therapist stayed quiet,
Until I couldn’t fight it.
I don’t want to sound like I’m complaining,
But ill get explaining.

One glass is all it takes,
To numb the pain.
Two glasses is all it takes,
To stop the tears from falling again and again.
Three glasses is all it takes,
To hold up what I cant contain.
Four glasses is all it takes,
To ignore my current mistakes.

Rejection after rejection,
I cant face it.
I feel wasted,
frustrated.
They say don’t get aggravated,
Stay motivated.
Get situated.
The fight isn’t over,
You cant be defeated.
I don't believe it.

“I’m not okay.”

There, I said it out loud.
Is that supposed to make me feel better?

You keep telling me to
get over it
or if it’s that bad then why don’t I
just get help?

You make it seem like it’s some kind of
miracle cure
to talk with a therapist once a week
when in reality
the healing takes forever.

And the pain just goes on
and on
like on repeat.

“Therapists are expensive,” you sigh
like my life was cheap??