Shorts & Newbies

This is confusing and frustrating - For my friends. Watching me make choices they know are no good but are supportive because they have to be. Hoping I'm okay and worrying about me every day. Thankful that I'm alive. For myself. I don't understand my decisions, thoughts or actions. I watch myself doing things, knowing I need to change it or stop but unable to do so because I'm not in control anymore. I feel adrift from my mind and body. I feel my emotions intensely. When you're at a steady level 4 - I am an uncontrollable, wild level 8. I get paranoid and distrustful. I let go of friendships easily. I overreact and am erratic. I make impulsive decisions and don't have healthy coping strategies. I am often misunderstood and taken the wrong way. I don't always think before I speak/act and I hurt people unintentionally. My brain is a spinning top that I am unable to slow down or stop. 

It is every colour all at once. It is expansive and claustrophobic at the same time. There are no windows. There are four bare bulbs centred on each wall, each with a different wattage that never turn off. I am plopped into this room without prior knowledge or consent. I grow accustomed, content and attached to this room. It is my home. I know the colour, I know the light, I know the shadow. Whether or not I know why I'm here, or even that I'm here at all, this room is safe. I must protect this room. People chip away at the other sides of the walls. Imperceptible at first. Sometimes so, that I don't notice the intrusion at all. I believe them safe to my room. But then they start to make changes to my home. What are you doing? That should be blue, not green. Stop it! Don't move that light, it doesn't belong there. That shouldn't be turned up so high, I can't see! They do so without asking and without permission. And then they leave. I am left n

Hello, my love. I've missed you. What did I do? Are you mad at me? You always do this! You can't do anything right! I love you. I hate you. You fucked up. I can't do this. Hug me. We're done. I'm sorry. Why do you want to dwell? You never let anything go! You just want to punish me! I love you. You are nothing to me. I miss you. Don't you want me? I need you. I love you. I never loved you. I'm done with you. What do you want for lunch?

I am an ocean. I run deep. Creatures creep and slither around. I am expansive. There are many places in myself I don't know or wouldn't recognize. My water is calm at the surface but many things happen underneath. My bottom is dark and cold. Some places are impenetrable. I cannot go there. To go is to let go of sanity and reason. They do not belong there - are not welcome. The beat of my ocean is erratic. The edges are sharp. The pressure is immense. It comes from all sides. Struggling only pulls it closer. Boats come to rescue me but they grow tired of waiting at an empty dock. My ocean's grip is inescapable. It holds me so I cannot breathe - so I cannot think. But. My ocean is familiar. I have come to see the creatures as old friends. Insanity is comfortable and warm. The hum of unreason is a lullaby I repeat to fall asleep at night. It is soft and welcomes me - beckons me closer. I ignore the calls of the boats, instead retreating into oblivion. My oce

But I was his girlfriend. Darling, not all rapists corner you in dark alleys. Not all rapists are glaringly obvious. Not all rapists wear a name tag. But I loved him. Darling, of course you did - so much so that you let him into that part of your soul that must be handled with the utmost care. But I changed my mind. Darling, have you ever started to make yourself a cup of tea, and then as you're drinking it decide you don't want it anymore? But I gave in. Darling, be your own voice. Give your back bone feet to stand on. Give your tongue the flame of your anger. Be the poison that is rolling in your stomach. But I blame myself. Darling, he is a coward. He is small. He is not a man, not a lover, not an equal. He is too insecure to listen to your no, that he hears please. Only a fool would misinterpret your stop as his go.

Today I begin to imagine you. You have my eyes, his chin, my hair, his nose. You have my passion, my enthusiasm, his character, his creativity. Today I wonder how I will put a name to someone I've never met. Are you a Lucy? A Peter? A Lucas? A Claire? Will you hate your name and wish I'd have called you French Toast, because it's your favourite food? Today I imagine the person you'll become. Will you be a wrestler, a ballerina, a firefighter, a teacher? Will you stay in school until you're 30 because you have no clue what you want to do? Today I think about the teenage years. The cold shoulders, the slammed doors. The tears, the mistakes. But also the laughing. The conversations until midnight. The inside jokes, the love. Today I fail to find a heartbeat. Today I meet you much sooner than I was meant to. Today I fill my emptiness with thoughts of you. Today I reflect. Today I let go a balloon filled with my prayers and dreams. Today I hope it f

I wanted to see you today, but when I called you didn't answer. I don't understand your silence. We had such a wonderful time yesterday curled up on your couch, binge watching old episodes of Friends, eating ice cream out of the carton with a spoon. You skipped work for me yesterday. I thought I was important to you, even though the other day I overheard you telling your mother that you wish I would just go away, that you can't handle my neediness or my loneliness. I'm sorry that you're my only friend. I love you. Why can't you love me? Why do I have to try so hard to get your attention? I saw you last night. I know you're taking pills and hiding it from me. Why can't you be honest with me? I won't judge you. I love you just as you are. You know you can tell me anything. We've been together for so long that sometimes I think I take you for granted. I believe you'll always be there. But you've gone and made other friends. You've taken

It's the invitation I feel obligated to accept even though I don't know the host. It's the sweater that grandma knitted for me, even though it's itchy and not my colour. It's the million errant thoughts that go through my mind every time I step outside my door. It's the receipt I won't throw away because I know when I do the item will need to be replaced. It's the hundred different ways I can misinterpret a word. It's the thousand different scenarios I play in my head just so I'm ready for any eventuality. It's what could possibly go wrong when the other person doesn't show up. Car wreck, heart attack, mugger, broken bones, any situation in which they are injured and dying. It's the tight chest, the buzz in my head, the feeling of floating beside myself and being completely trapped in my mind's basement. It's the drop of my heart, the whooshing of my blood in my ears, the lump of my stomach in my throat. It's the party tha

I can. I can stop your groping touches, your quiet tread over my threshold, your silent message that I am sexually irresistible at 6 years old. I can one day think of you - not as a gnashing monster ready and willing to turn innocence into a hollow shadow - but as a sick, foreign being that I can fight. I can. I can hide my insecurities, my discomfort, my problems, my darkness. I can tuck them away for you. For your assurance that you brought me up despite everything stacked against  you . I can neatly place myself in a small box so  you  don't feel like a failure. I can fold my messy, fitted sheet just like it came from the store so  you  don't have to feel the frustration of  my  inadequacy. I can let forth my Pandora's Box of secrets because it is time. It is time for me to stop squashing myself to accommodate  you . I can. I can step up to the plate and knock that curve ball out of the park when you won't even show up for try-outs. I can be the mother and the fathe