Spilled Ink and Coral Thoughts

She was 13, she wasn't just someone.

She was my sister.

We made plans and simply they changed.

She was 20 then and living her life without me.

How do you go from being attached to being detached?

G, that was the initial of her name.

I crossed paths with someone else back in 2017 and even then I thought she was great.

I'm not good with friendships but I do try.

As an adult now, I thought friendships were different, and I wanted her there for all my big moments, but then I moved away.

I moved away, and we became distant.

So distant, it became "who is this?" Text messages when I reached out.

J, is the initial of her name.

I now know what I should've known then.

I'm not good with friendships.

They live their lives, and I see it through social stills.

And to that, I say.

I didn't want to believe it even though I knew it.

I didn't want to believe it.

Then they closed the casket.

Numb.

That's what I felt.

Every inch of my body broke like glass, hitting the floor.

You were someone that I would ride to the end of the earth for.

Laughter, memories, attachments.

Like a memory, they fade.

I shout.

You hate me yet love me.

But you don't love me, let's be honest here.

Your smile.

Your laugh.

Contagious.

Like the bricks that hold against the wall.

Love breaks you.

Like glass shattering.

You make things easy.

You make life and love look easy.

The idea of each other.

We craved the attention.

You were the missing piece and I was the puzzle.

But now, that you're gone...

Your memory is cold.

Your memory is fading.

The idea of you was better than having you.

medic said, ‘It’s just

a panic attack,’ as if

that would comfort me,

to know I am the enemy,

my body––its own stalker.”

I thought things were going well..

As I hyperventilate tonight and suffocate myself with the blanket and pillows to cover up my cries.

I wouldn't want to wake anyone.

It's been awhile.

I thought things were going well..

But like always,

It's my fault.

I'm caught.

There's razors everywhere and you're first assumption was that.

You looked at my body and noticed blood, you yelled instead of comforting me..

I fell, here in the bathroom.

I screamed into towels.

I cried and held back my emotions.

Feeling empty, broken.

I threw up.

Yes, this happened.

But please keep screaming at me and putting me down instead of helping me.