can i get back
what was never mine to begin
i’ve faced loss after loss
after motherfucking loss
and i’m still expected to get up again
unsteady legs quivering as i
take a step forward, to move on
and immediately fall back to the ground
dirty hands cover clean glass
as the water trembles in the cup
i try to pour it down an aching throat
but it only comes back up
to splatter the pavement with truths
and coat my perception with lies
and maybe realize that this victim complex
isn’t all that it’s made out to be
when all this rears its ugly head,
will i be able to survive the reality
that this wasn’t all i wanted it to be
why am i alive?
why am i here?
why can’t i die?
where’s my peace?
i want to be free?
the heaviness of the actions of another
weighs deep within my throat
as i realize “at least i’m writing about the process
instead of the filthy way his hands felt”
can i rebuild
something that was never there
even after everything i loved
can’t you see all this extra weight i carry
the burden of someone else’s actions
carried atop aching shoulders
even as i fight, step by step by step
my legs hurt, i’m so tired
i wasted years
on something that was never meant to be
time i could have spent trying to change the world
was spent coiled up inside myself
trying to heal from something
that should have never happened
sometimes i think i’ve got drain bamage
i’ve got that contusion to my soul
and no matter how much i try and recover
i fall back into the same old pattern
i want to have the control
the control means i win
the control means that i don’t have to worry
about what will happen next
so give it to me
because with any luck
the control of today
will better the future of tomorrow
it will allow me to feel the earth
the grains of sand beneath my feet
once more as i recover
from abominations only few can fathom.
note: i genuinely do not remember writing this. I’m not sure if I might have messed up with my spelling of “drain bamage” or if it was intentional. I confuse myself on a daily basis. What a life.
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