A thing I wrote when I wasn't drunk.

I called you one night in the middle of a panic attack but you had to go because you were with your friends and every day I’m realizing more and more how f*****g s****y that was of you. You said I was your human, that everybody has one. Now you’re with someone with eyes half as bright as mine but you like things better in the dark now, where you don’t have to see them. You told me all the ways we would fix up an old house and how I would have my own room for my writing. Fast forward I’m in an old house and all I have is my writing and a blonde-haired girl that keeps me sober and I’m happy this way and I hope that it kills you. I can’t wake up to the sound of boats without remembering the smell of your bedroom and every angle of light through your window. I don’t know if I want to scream at you or just be glad that you’re happy but the thing is that I don’t think I want either of those things. I like it in the dark too, where I don’t have to feel it. I like to think that you were a stranger in a dream like an extra in a movie that I barely even noticed. There’s a girl who has been in love with me for almost four years, even when we don’t talk and even when I’m in love with someone else. Maybe that’s what love is. Yearning for something no matter how miserable it makes you feel at times and I think that’s f*****g beautiful like that’s f*****g poetry. I’m too prideful to be miserable over something that has two hands and a heartbeat, unless it’s my dad laying in a hospital bed. Everybody has their exceptions and everybody is f****n afraid of them. Maybe love is just an exception to all of he rules you make for yourself, for all of the walls you build. With all my f*****g walls I’ve got a 137 bedroom house, but all of the rooms are empty. I really believed I would be with you forever and now I don’t know how I was with you at all and nothing is more scary than feeling two diametric things in the same head. Maybe love is a deception. I overheard my mom telling someone that “a pot with a lid always boils faster. you can’t put a lid on her, you just have to leave her alone and let her simmer, or she’ll boil over.” My mom is always telling people how much space I need and I’m still trying to figure out what that means or why I need that space and why I always have to simmer and why I can’t just take myself off the f****n stove and stop with this barbed wire fence I wrap around myself. Yeah it kinda hurts my skin but at least nobody else can get in. I’m learning that some things aren’t flaws and you shouldn’t change them and you should embrace them because they are meant to be that way and there is beauty to be found in it. I’ll always be on the burner and I’ll always be ready to boil over and I’ll always be wrapped in a barbed wire fence and yeah it hurts my skin and yeah you can’t get in but that’s just the way things are and there is beauty to be found in it 
and I’m learning.

Reviews

[Mercy Fae]

Anger is a common emotion, and trust me, I know how much panic attacks suck. They used to scare me shitless.

Keep writing. It is good for emotions to be released