Sometimes I let myself get carried away. I forget to silence those most critical voices that tell me I won’t be worthy until. Until being the operative word because it’s just that. Untils that are further than the moon.
But you kept me in the now. The now that reminds me that now might even be better than the until. A now where you’re here to keep the most mundane aspects of my life feeling magical.
Now I’m just treading water until, until you’re here again.
if you’re reading this right now, take caution. the middle man is shaking out the sheets from his bed where he’s shed his dragon scales and laying them back down over our eyes. he eats our affection because nothing else satiates. he’s good at unearthing it too, affection from our dry barren gardens, so much so that we have bare none left for ourselves. he says, “your garden has the freshest herbs. you alone have saved me.”
take caution: the middle man LIES. you are not over reacting. do not apologize like i have. the middle man lies.
Listen, I have to tell you this because my biggest fear is hurting people. i exist with a fear inside me like a bomb thats certain to explode, shrapnel tearing through the cheeks of everyone around me. Theyll wear scars for the rest of their lives and say, “how selfish. how fucking selfish.” im suspicious, maybe, you recognize this pain.
and i apologize in advance, for my skin is sharp as swords and my words seer flesh like poison without trying. this means that my hugs end in wounds. and my “i love you”s end in burns. i hope you believe that im taking diligent notes on how to be kind and i watch Good people like lab rats with the intention of learning how to be better by the textbook. but even when im standing completely still, im bending the grass beneath my feet. im sorry, earth that im so heavy without meaning to be.
if you’re reading this right now, know that im so sorry my presence has hurt you. this isnt the first time and believe me when i say i recognize the pain. and i recognize how irrationally angry it makes you feel. but in my version of events, we’d have our own stockpile of meaningless jokes by now. but thats assuming a lot. thats assuming i wasnt predetermined to be the joke long before i arrived. it really didnt matter who i was, did it. but my mother once told me, “sometimes you have to be the bad guy to protect someone else.” is that whats happening here? do you need to hate me? do you need to scoff at the things you think ive done? because if im not the bad guy, then someone else is. and god would that hurt so much worse, huh?
a very tired and anxious