#climbingback

Originally Posted: June 11th, 2018

Originally Posted: June 7th, 2018

You used to be here before you fled, before the assumptions, before the clutched pearls of your inferences became more important than my words, I'd erase those nine months of love if it meant we could be friends again,

Even if it meant giving up the laughter our shotgun storytelling, rare mornings we were up at the same time, all smiles morning breath makeouts, forceful fucking, simultaneously cooking while always touching made the food better

It always falls away to farcical promises, they always say they love you and they'll be there until turbulence, I get that because they don't stick around for the plane crash they parachute out while I have to be a black box for the tragic impact,

Originally Posted June 4th, 2018 

Like she said, I was the backbone with which she was smashing with all her terrors,

"I love the way you love me."   She would say.

"You owe Shania some money."   I would say.

The weight of her despair would mingle with mine, we'd meet at the event horizon crushing each other in black hole fights that little light escaped from,

Slowly but surely in a storm of tantrums both loud and silent shadowed by super ventricular episodes shouldered by a self-righteous martyr marred by history's biggest abuser: the past,

I was transformed from her ever present steed to dangerous conspirator, from champion to traitor, a cloak and dagger jailor, of course I was the problem, I kept you locked up here right?

I'm the worst even though those friends of yours tearing me down now begged you not to "fuck this one up", I'm the worst even though "no one had taken care" of you like me,

You kept choosing instead to shoulder other people's misery instead of helping the team get through theirs,

You're hatred of hypocrisy is well known but you're a major offender, you don’t even respect the nigga whose bed you're warming, "he loves me too much, it's sad" but he’s a convenient crash pad,

I thought you loved me like air, but there was a limit, there always is, I was a man who loved his woman who is more blistered trauma than person,

I FEEL STUPID FOR MISSING YOU.

Left worsened by this Stockholm Syndrome dopesickness, it's thick width pressing in my chest with the same pressure of my old surgeries, I worry once again that I'll never be good enough,

Originally Posted: June 3rd, 2018

Her Declaration

"You know... For years I’ve watched you love me, in your large and silent way.

For years I’ve relied on you, turned to you when I was afraid, sad, dying or broken

For years you could soothe me, walking into my war zones as if you knew you were Christ, walking on the water of all that was on fire to bring me solace.

For years. You saw me and you saw my armor and knew them to be different.

But last night.

You kissed me and I felt the future pass through me. I felt from the tips of my toes to the lips which became one with your taste and pressure a certainty that you are precisely what you appear to be. I finally understood the cling, the shift, the shatter in my belly the first time we touched in a more-than-friendly way and let myself sink into something outside me.

I was a puzzle piece in the grand scope of the universe, connected in a dozen ways to your bends and angles, lost and yet still solidly myself.

You are the stuffed bear from my childhood, the blanket on the cold night against a tree branch, the living bear who shared a berry bush when I was shaking and starving then led me home. You are the cloth on my fever parched lips, the horse beneath my thighs, the water I tread for hours even at my weakest, and the backbone with which I have been smashing my terrors.

I have been waving my sword at ally-invoked phantoms, trapped like the Marquis de Sade, creating art on the walls.

I have been surrounded.

You have always been there. Will always be there.

My Response

“I love you more than air, I love you like I love honor." 

Her. Last year. 2017. When I still was worth something. 

It always starts out sweet. 

The new hotness has no idea. You sir, have waited in the wings for a trial. I don’t even remember your face that's how unremarkable you were. She clowned you hardbody like you guys are clowning me now. After 10 years, I thought I knew how to win. I never thought I'd be getting gas lit by someone who was getting it for so long. Love blinds us. I've never heard so many "I didn't like that bitch anyway"s before. 

I was your champion. I defended you. "I'm not for everyone" you often say. But you were the one for me, fattie.

Or so I thought. I thought you loved me like honor. Narcissism and perfection only honor themselves. Until they need to sleep someplace warm and a good fucking. Then us backups are super soldiers overnight. You said you wanted to make me a god. I believed you could. Iron sharpens iron. The holy fire could help burn away the impurities in my steel. After all, you were the one woman not treating me like an option in her schedule. You were my ace as the travails and schedules of life consumed my other loved ones. You made me feel less alone. 

That's why I sacrificed. You escaped your true abusers and rapists and I had to help. You wanted to die and I had to help. You almost died too many times and I had to help. You would shit down my neck about my rhetoric and I had to help. You were willing to be dangerously homeless in Venice and I had to help. I did all that overtime in a place I hated and hated me back for you and I had to help. I lashed out venomously about the twists of your rollercoaster life and I had to help. You had to get back across the country on the same roads you almost died on with someone you loved and then hated and judged and I had to help. I took you into my home so we could finally try and be together and make it into a home instead of a cave of depression and so I loved to help. Your life and soul were still on fire and I tried to help. Unfortunately, I have my own salt and trauma weighing me down so it was hard to help. You seldom "didn't have the bandwidth" for dates, your friends, or the outside world so I was often the only one to help. You would throw old insults and salt I threw at you back in my face and it didn't help. I was stressed and fighting everywhere in my life and was strained even with help. I was fired because of it and needed help. We started to vortex into our sadness and needed help. Familiarity breeds contempt, we were discontent and we needed help. 

Morrissey had lied to me and my fattie was telling me we didn't work. I needed help. I sought help to be the stoic monk you begged me to be.  It wasn’t enough, it seldom ever is. 

Originally posted: June 2nd, 2018

I wish I had thrown that shirt In the garbage but wearing Dr. Manhattan suits you well,

Being detached and cold, living in the past trashing the present, damn the consequences because you always have safety nets to save you with strong hips and warm worn beds and I was the best one resentment now sitting hot in my throat as I see you in a shirt I gave you out of love on another man's mattress another shitty stand-in who doesn't know he's a tourniquet for the bloody war we fought against each other

I wonder how many months it'll take you to throw him away after you shove the clotted blood of your trauma down his struggling gullet, when the luster fades when your need to fuck up a good thing comes calling in the quiet of your sleepless nights and then you're off to find another ignorant knight

He doesn't yet know you're the scorpion on the spine because you make crossing the river so much fun.

Originally Posted: June 1st, 2018

"Now then, let's step right along here. We've established that I'm a thief and a murderer and a bastard. But what are you? Would the word snivellers bother you? You Styrics whine a great deal. You've carefully stored up an inventory of the abuses you've suffered in the last thousand years and you take a perverted pleasure in sitting in dark smelly corners regurgitating them all, chewing them over and over like mouthfuls of stale vomit...frankly my friends, all these martyred expressions bore me. Don't you ever get tired of feeling sorry for yourselves?" “The Shining Ones” by David Eddings

I did everything for you. Would've walked through fire for you if you asked. Basically went through hell for and with you. It didn't matter that the bags were heavy. We were together until you swaddled me with the clothes of the oppressor. Spat in the face of the team because all you know how to do is play heroball. All you know are abusers, servants, sycophants, and safe harbors to sicken with and validate your despair, not friends. I'm sad life hit you like a train because of your cunt mother and shitty family. But fuck your betrayal and disrespect.