I am forgetting how you smell

I have been refusing to remind myself

Of the sound of your laugh

So it can fade into the past

But I still feel where your thighs would hold my knee

Like someone carved the meat & bone out of me

And as your beauty fades

My rot remains

You are far from perfect

But I am clearly a derelict

All this dedication to my contrition

All the good intentions but I forgot the mission

I was not supposed to sleep

Till the whisper of a foxglove did not make me weep

Joy and pain come to me quickly

They rip and tear into me cruelly

Was once told that maybe no one could feel like me

Lately I have thought that I do not feel like me

The deep ridges of my fingertips

That I carved so recklessly

Have filled in

Every thing I touched knew

That my id was suffering

Now I am nothing

My tornadoes are ending

And the hurricanes recede

Wondered if the Sun would show

But these pregnant clouds will not leave

I can feel the pores of my skin pool

With their stagnant warm water

But is it not in stale ponds

Where the most harmful bacteria grow

I often have to say out loud “Don’t hurt yourself.” in the middle of making a decision that will harm me in order to stop. It feels like I am walking in on someone else in my body. I am both invader and the invaded. I will be in control and out of it. I am present and yet after telling myself out loud to stop I am more present than I had been just before. Maybe I am the stranger in my body and the voice that says to stop isn’t mine.

I can not even say for sure if other people feel this way. My first thought is that this is not an unusual experience and that I am, in the drama of my mental state, making it more than it is. However I could very well be in flux. Constantly phasing between self-love and self-hatred. I can only speak to my own experience and even then barely.

I want to say that I am doing better and it not feel like I am lying.

Let me tell you a secret

Swear that you’ll speak it

Memories hurt the deepest

Self love or don’t love at all

They’re temporary

Stand alone or fall apart

Miss nothing or miss it all

Mourn the idea

And you’ll never recover

I don’t hold things sacred often. But I drive by this tree everyday. Seeing it in the morning and in the evening used to be a point of shame for me. This tree is a five minute walk from my house. One year ago I walked out to this tree and I sat underneath it with my gun for several hours. I cried and screamed and was the closest I had ever been to commiting suicide. I had only loaded a single round into the magazine and when it felt like my head was splitting open I shot the gun into the ground and threw up. I voluntarily gave the gun to a close friend for until I’m healthier. Back then the grass was overgrown, there were pieces of rebar and the tree was bare from the cold weather. It’s now well kept as they are planning to sell the land. The last few weeks driving by this tree has been a comfort. It’s now a marker that I have had 365 victories in a row. I have been if only in this one aspect of my life successful. I don’t normally condone the marking of trees and stuff since they’re living but I made a small exception. This tree is sacred to me because I live. I don’t have a bright follow up message but I’m alive today and I’m thankful for that.

Nothing could stop me from loving you

But nothing seems fast approaching

I spent so long pushing against the trap that cripples me

Your voice at the nape of my neck

Kept my spine from splintering

But nothing is closing around me

Lifting me up like a doll

Another one of its playthings

I feel myself caving under the pressure

But that’s okay

It’s okay

My sweet heart

My heart has gone. I wonder where you have been. Wandering son find your way home. You have been stretching yourself too far for too long. My sweet heart, it’s okay that you did not find what you were looking for. I’ve made a place for you to rest in my chest. We can try again tomorrow.