black and white television

we can check back in next week

i’ve been sad these past few months. and not really the loud angry sad made of fire the type that makes me mean and quick with my words but instead this quiet empty sort of sad that just makes me feel like i’ve got this big glass tank full of water around me and i can’t really hear what anybody is saying and i am so. lonely. i don’t want to kill myself and i don’t want to yell or break things or turn my emotions into a weapon i just want to lay here until i decompose. my mom can leave and that’s okay but just keep me here in my bed in my room in my first safe place. let everybody move on with their lives and be happy and angry and excited just leave me be. i want to stay in my soft soft soft bed with fuzzy pink sheets and grey crushed velvet and five blankets - maybe please leave me some water? and when everyone has left please let me wander around this first home silent and emaciated. and mom if i could just ask one thing - when the movers are pulling away with our life in the back of the truck will you please kiss me on my forehead while i’m just barely conscious and tell me that you’ll come back? i don’t want to remember it clearly i just need that little moment of security to play on repeat while i haunt this house. you can have sean seal up my room once he finds new renters, i’ll be in here. i can open up the window so that as i lay here rotting i won’t leave a smell we can pretend i was never here. that i am my own home maybe. but i think i will just stay here under the watchful eyes of the butterfly tapestry above my bed that you helped me pick out. i am perfectly content to stay tucked away frozen in time. but i know i can’t go back there. to the first house. the secret is everybody knows that too because that’s where my world ended. and my dad can paint and renovate and change it’s clothes but it’s still the same fucking skeleton and i think it might be trying to kill me. that whole place feels so sinister and so painful and it just feels so wrong. i’m supposed to be packing right but but i can’t. because then it’s real and i’m leaving and i’m giving up the only home i’ve ever known to love me back and how am i supposed to leave if i was supposed to have an anchor? how could i leave if this is where i got better? and how could i possibly leave if this is the safest place i’ve known? so please -please- just let me stay here in my warm soft bed and kiss my forehead while i’m still asleep and tell me you’ll come back home. and i’ll wait for you. i promise.

i’ve not been to the beach in a few weeks