how do i tell
tomorrow’s me
to just go for something
without shaming
yesterday’s me
for not?
[how?]
[how?]
[how?]
how do i tell
tomorrow’s me
to just go for something
without shaming
yesterday’s me
for not?
[how?]
[how?]
[how?]
time passing
too swiftly
to get me
pumped
about any one event or even one day
i need now to look forward to
a weekend
a whole month
a big big change in scenery
[but the tiniest/
eensy weensiest/
minutest little things
still bring my whole mood
down
down
down
so what’s that about?]
the post-show let-down
is holding me in its grip
as i grasp for a way
out
i don’t know what i’m waiting for
but i’m waiting
i’m waiting
pain
and depression
are linked for me,
for i can stand
a great deal of each
but the moment it/i reach
a breaking point
a moment when the pain is too unbearable
a moment when my thoughts get too dark
even for my somber self,
a moment when i feel at the brink of too muchness
and nothingness
that is exactly when the physical and mental pain
fades
and i am left feeling so silly
for wondering if
now
was the moment i’d give in
and just
die
so much happened yesterday
and i
didn’t even poem about it
[yet]
~~~
{trigger warning: suicidal ideation, mention of eating disorders}
my overanalytic brain
that runs through every possibility
that made a whole “pro & con” list
on which eating disorder
to give myself
is probably the same thing
that has saved me
from actually killing myself
every time i’ve gotten close
in these
ideations
~~~
distracted
and distractable
and not what i wanted
from my day at home
preparing to do things
i should be doing
should have done
days
weeks
months
ago
but am i just going to
nap
again
until it’s time to leave
again?
again?
again?
i wish i saw through poet’s eyes
the beauty of the earth at all times —
but instead i see the pain and despair
and try to beautify that
with impassioned speeches/
or try to find the tiniest spec
of lovely
in a day full of pain/
and make the mundane
beautiful again
though it doesn’t really feel like
poetry
to me
without grand sunsets
or allegories of bees and flowers,
i’m over here trying —
making beauty out of angst
and bubble gum
grasp my flyaways
like reins
and maybe we can all escape
my own
brain
feeling like i’m riding a roller coaster
but i have to physically get myself
up
up
up
up
the chain of every hill
pulling
and grinding the gears
until gravity and physics finally take over
and i can let myself go
but then i’m going
and going
and going too fast
and where i once had
so much
too much
control
i’m now hands off
letting it take me
where it wants
and i didn’t even create this roller coaster
i don’t know what it has in store for me
i can only see a few moments in front of me
and for me
who saw
the whole hill i was pulling myself up
[granted, the hill looked
even larger
even longer — i never saw
the drop coming]
being unable to predict
when the next turn
or loop
or tunnel
will happen
as it just seems to pick up
more and more speed
faster
and faster
is a bit too much for me,
but i’ve been on this roller coaster for a while now
and i know
there’s probably another hill coming
i’ll have to pull myself
up
up
up
and
along…
[but what if there’s not
what if
what if
what if this part of the ride
just keeps going
faster
speedier
wilder
out of control
until it’s too fast
too much momentum
for the track
and i rocket off?
would i die?
or would i land somewhere off of this preconceived track
when i can have some control
over direction
and height
and maybe even
not
be on a roller coaster at all?]
once again i’m
writing in my bed while i
feel a little dread from
the world around me but
my cat is purring and
my dog is sighing and
my kip is working and
i suppose i’ll give tomorrow a go