the warmth

what does comfort feel like?

the safety of home?

of putting down your baggage

and taking a deep breath

and letting it go

a mother’s hug

i imagine it to be warm

to smell like nostalgia

to feel soft like

thick fresh socks

like a rug keeping your feet

from the cold hard ground of reality

i imagine myself walking in

to a home warm like a hearth

and softly bright like a gentle light

and the smell of bread baking

and i see

the idea of what a mother would be

turning to me with love

and i lay my head on her shoulder

and she pats my hair away from my head

and she kisses my cheek and says

everything will be alright

and everything is gently bright

and everything feels like warmth

my body feeling like the sigh of home

the city lights

I’ve abused the magic

I’ve been bathing in the lights every night

(i was only supposed

to go once in a while)

And they’re losing their glamour 

The lights have gotten dimmer

(darker?)

The healing has been exchanged

For reality

I can see the lightbulb 

I see it flicker

I see a crack in the glass

The dirt that settled there

The energy and the vibes

Are just bullshit

New age spirituality 

Garbled nonsense

I see rats running across

A garbage strewn sidewalk 

I see the gum marks and the urine stains

That I somehow missed 

Distracted by the glitter

The magic is gone

I must mend myself

I can no longer go there to heal

lol (imagine that)

imagine your harshest truth written in poetry

not penned by you but by someone with pedigree

imagine them and imagine me

both had a sacred bond marred by a dark history

 

imagine you finally emotionally agree

to post the poem up for all to see

imagine everyone and imagine me

surprised at how they  reacted lovingly

 

imagine the one for whom it was meant to see

reacting to that poem with mockery

imagine them and imagine me

staying up all night crying hysterically

 

imagine a broken family

of siblings torn apart by a parental authority

imagine that sibling and imagine me

when I see her reply “lol” to my misery

 

imagine the siblings living in different realities

built by a clever witch and masked with insincerity

imagine that and imagine me

somehow cast as the villain of their story

 

imagine all the people we have come to be

all walking around with a dark marred history

imagine them and imagine me

healing and growing with empathy

 

imagine 30 years of being free

through hard work and growth there is a happier me

imagine that and imagine me

fully healing and living in tranquility

i trust no one

i’m getting better (i think to myself)

i bring out the graph of my life

and look at my plotted emotions

i stand in front of my invisible crowd

and ask if everyone can see the screen okay

i hear a yes echo in my mind

 

“here you can see a 9.8% decrease of my ‘i suck’ thoughts”

i click to the next slide

“this is a significant improvement to last quarter’s numbers”

i see the crowd nod.   impressed

i breathe in deeply “and here we can see

we shrunk the pit to a more manageable amount

it is no longer a boring hole of despair”

 

i quickly click through the next slides

where i show my raw numbers (no need for them to see

that I took some liberties

calculating the numbers on the screen)

“and here you can even see we finally went to therapy”

 

i watched the ceo flip through the pages of my slide

i made a physical copy of each

this presentation and its results were very important to me

“good work,” he (?) said to me

(it’s very interesting that the ceo of my mind is a ‘he’)

“this is very important work you’ve done for the company”

 

i smile politely and begin to leave

until he verbally stops me

“hold on, how is the trust department doing?”

“great! ” i said

he (?) doesn’t need to know about the email that i sent

paragraphs of flowery words that read:

thank you for all you’ve done for me,

you’re kindness and support truly surprised me

but the this is the last communication from me

because the truth is i trust nobody

rumination

when i was young

and i got a cut

it would last forever

because

every time it would begin to heal

and scab would form

i would pick at it

i would peel it

i hated the bumpiness of the scab

how it protruded from my skin

how it was discolored

and found that I needed to remove it

to make my skin smooth again

 

but every time I did

it bled

and another scab would form

and i would do again

and again

and again

even though i knew

it would never heal that way

3 days free

day 1: Memorial day weekend 2017 has just begun. It began with my sister waking up bright and early and baking bread while listening to music. Her productive cheerfulness a stark contrast to my roomful anxious existence.

(It’s also the first day of Ramadan?)

Go for a walk you will feel much better

Outside I walked for one hour in nature because nature heals. I played music on my walk because music heals.

Nothing was healed on my walk.

(there were two couples running together and a fit mom running with her stroller)

Looming Doom intensifies.

My old roommate and one of my good friends is here. She is here to take the rest of her stuff because she’s moving away. 2.5 hours north.

Life is rough for her right now, lots of changes.

Life is rough for me right now, no changes.

We talk about doing awesome things in the future. I wait for my gut. Excitement? No. Just doom. (this is better than numbness trust me)

She leaves (I stay)

What will I do today? There is no internet. There hasn’t been internet for 3 days now. Call landlord again. No answer again.

Maybe I will download a stupid romance novel about a stupid nonsignificant heroine who is loved by everyone for no stupid reason and then I can stupidly pretend that she is me. (artificial)

Maybe I will go to NYC tonight and wander the streets and feel lonely in the hustle and bustle of it all. (just walk a lot and maybe lose weight)

Maybe I do this because I like to feel contrast? Maybe I do this because I need to feel.

Maybe I’ll be broken forever.