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Chapter 89

High to stop the Tears

☆Faith☆ (A Series Of Poems)

My hands no longer shaking

My voice no longer meek

Instead my heart keeps on beating

The tears continue to flow out of me

That night I spent hours crying

On the carpet of my room

The dirt mixed with the wet of my eyes

Swollen like a golf ball or two

Those summer nights laying

On the floor of a make-way driveway

The mosquitos biting my ankles

the bumps on skin from underneath my middle-school branded shorts

The songs and the memories

Holding hand in hand

Nobody knowing

Those nights were only to stall my death

Something as simple as not leaving on time

The tightness in my chest

Like pining after a lover

When your lover is already dead

Coming home to wind and harshness

The winter placed in spring

Holding yourself tight because your younger self never could

Holding yourself tight because your body would fall apart if you didn't wrap yourself into a cocoon

Never knowing why you feel this way

Never knowing why its been years

They always say it gets better

Then why does everyday get worse?

It seems there is no cause

It seems there is no solution

Maybe it's because I hate my therapist

Maybe it's because she never offers solutions

I reframe my thinking

I rewire my brain

But I constantly still feel empty

I look back to try to attribute that to the pain

Shit that no longer bothers me

I tell myself to bring up

Maybe that's why I feel so numb

Cry for hours because the soul has never felt good enough

So there I am with my headphones

Innocent by Taylor Swift

Wasn't it easier in elementary?

When the bullies and the worries weren't shoved in my face

When my brain didn't replay them

When my brain didn't tell me all the times I fucked up

When it didn't tell me I should leave everyone

Ghost and block because I don't deserve to meet the one

Hours past and songs played

The mucus falls and the mucus sprays

The dirty sweatshirt dirty once more

Add it to the pile of underpriced clothes

Full of tears and sweat and dirt

Layered with memories of the loss of people who I haunt as a chore

A leaky faucet

It never stops dripping

So I turn to recreation

And the bits keep on getting bigger

Highness turns to euphoria

TV seems so strange

It feels good to watch something funny

It feels good to not feel guilty about the shit that I eat

Curse him in the shower and curse her before I sleep

Watch myself a few years ago

How did I make it without weed?

So afraid to speak

So afraid to make a noise

Loved for only what I gave

What I could provide to make others feel safe

It was never about who could help me

It was never about why was I avoiding them today

It's always do this and this to help yourself when you don't even know my time and place

It's always so stupid advice that's meaningless

It's always how can I help you

It's always stupid info-graphs with big bold fonts instead of giving me space to talk and build up the nerve

It's always turn to therapy

It's never turn to drugs

Therapy with the higher recovery rate but even the placebo can do me so much

So shit gets worse and I get fed up

Fall back to binges and then struggle to get back up

Avoid therapy and can't find a new one with my current luck

Avoid you and block them and now I'm all alone in my house

No pills to overdose on because the Tylenol is all gone

No alcohol to consume because her depressing breakup days are long gone

So steal her edibles and tell everyone to fuck off

I'm better off alone

High on the fact that I lived long enough to try to kill myself on purpose at least once

Written on: April 26, 2021

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