I am an autonomous being...

(Plain text):

I’m drunk and I’m married to heartbreak

Tried to restart my heart, but I think it’s too late

I could close my eyes, and call it all fate

But I’m a bad liar; it’s a good trait

So I stare at the wall and hold my breath

“Would the world be much different if I left?”

It’s always running through my mind, without rest

So I run inside and hide, it’s what I do best

I’m rich in my troubles, always on edge

Been navel gazing since they all left

The suffering is real out on the ledge

Still, I bleed in a way that’s so privileged

I was carved into pieces and I didn’t know

I couldn’t handle it then, and I still won’t

I numb myself on command, broken bones

I know I should stop, but I just don’t

I care and I love but I don’t show

Except if you’re really, really close

But you don’t show back, and maybe it’s shallow

But to be loved like I love… I’d die to know

I’m ready to jump, but not fall

Guess I’m not so fearless after all

So many times, different close calls

Pretend I never broke my stride, but it’s a slow crawl

Towards something I can’t see and I don’t want

I live in snippets and old haunts

I only see beauty when I look gaunt

So hard to maintain, my ego taunts

I cry when I’m lonely, but no one knows

I’d rather painfully drown in my sorrow

Than inconvenience someone, break their flow

They have a whole life whether I go

Maybe I’ll text someone tomorrow

(I won’t)

In every case, I’m a try-hard

Get rewarded briefly, lower my guard

Startle when I find out I’m no longer part

Of an institution that held me in high regard

Break my naïveté into shards

I’m so sick and so tired of being alive

Every day feels so contrived

I can’t even look at real suffering online

Don’t think my will to live can be revitalized

If life were an email, I’d unsubscribe

And I think about it all the damn time

I jotted all this down in sliding rhyme

Because my will to live flips on a dime

I could go on, and I probably will

As I realize new truths to distill

The irony of pain and free will

So many days I’ve sought time to kill

I want to be remembered… but maybe not

I can’t think of anything worth thought

One time I knew some wisdom, but I forgot

I can’t even earn my own time slot

(I’m a canary in a coal mine of humanity

How self-important of me)

(I’m a tin-foil hat

A conspiracy

Just an idea

Again: not proud, and this feeling crumbles under the most minute scrutiny. I just remember, every time the sergeant spoke with me, that I was so glad I had no children to witness the chaos (bad enough about the dogs).

All of that being said, when my husband died, my immediate visceral reaction was to wish we had kids so his wonderful qualities—which genuinely exist!!—could live on.

I quickly acknowledged my grief and magical thinking on that topic, but I did think it.

And that reality truly humbles me when it comes to that sense or superiority I mentioned at the beginning of this post.

You’re where my thoughts linger when alone

You’re my refuge, my lover, my home

You’re everywhere I want to go

You’re everything I want to know

You’re half my heart and know my whole soul