10/24/24
I’m angry now.
Maybe it’s not at you.
I don’t know, anymore.
It’s a lot of pressure
to be the only one
you call four times a day.
To feel responsible
for your well-being.
To be the only person in our family
you say you trust.
I hate that about us.
It’s who I’ve been since I was three.
The child mom made responsible.
keep you calm and sane.
keep her from killing herself.
Tired, like, my teeth hurt.
Someone put steel wool in my head,
and moved my heart behind my shoulder,
and electrocuted my brain.
I can barely sleep.
How could I?
When you aren’t okay.
I was with you in Moccasin Bend,
but not where your bullshitting landed you.
Nothing makes sense with you.
I can’t fix you.
I sure as shit won’t lie and tell you “it’ll be okay.”
Because it won’t.
It hasn’t been.
Not ever.
Not even close.
If you’ve taught me anything,
of all the magic,
it’s how to spot a bullshitter,
and a madman.
And, of course, how to dissociate, but to look okay.
And function. Cope.
My brains are turning inside-out,
extra advice along with a side of “selfish” scrambled eggs.
I’ve had too much of me,
what is it this time?
Another memory.
So many…
I don’t always get to choose what it will be.
embarrassment? a bruised ego?
smells like ozone.
Who are they, and what is me?
… Another memory …
What’ll it be?
A double-feature of trauma and mystery.
Who are you, and how am I?
Another memory.
This one with some good,
mixed in with the misery.
You are not what I see in me.
No straight lines, not from A to Z.
This is all choices
these memories sound like bees.
I could just stop it and be happy.
Do you always hide from your memories?
Are your feelings unfortunate byproducts without advices?
Do you know what goes wrong when you’re latchkeying?
Mother’s a narcissist
sister’s a candidate for lobotomy
father in pursuit
for his pederasty.
But what do you know?
It’s all busted relationships.
-Aric B.
You must be logged in to post a comment.