dear brother,
you wanted to know the entire story so bad. Here's an entire book I don't expect you to read.
you seem to want to know everyone's story when they weren't ready to speak these issues.
they either didn't need to or want to. and you? were just a nosy white male with a lot of toxic masculinity I did not care about.
another reason I never shared anything with you. you were part of the problem. those years growing up trying to deal with my mental health I didn't need a 25 year old going on to 30 tell me to shut up when things got tough, or you called me fat. the car should have killed me. you killed this relationship. and when I act like i'm not interested, its because I don't want to know you. i never want to see you again.
but again thank you for the trauma and the life lessons. also a tremor in your hand is not a panic attack. panic episodes relate to circling uncontrollable thoughts the mind. which you care about no one whom struggles with mental illness. a tremor in your hand, is a tremor in your hand. if your so concerned you're probably dehydrated or try seeing a neurosurgeon, or more relevant a bloody psychiatrist. maybe theres a fat tumor. Maybe you need meds like the rest of us.
don't tell me the world is shit. what do you know? I've almost died two times and neither of those times I wanted to live.
sincerely,
fuck off.
YOU ARE READING
A Journey Past Our Solar System: Poetry of a Borderline
PoetryA Journey Past Our Solar System is mostly confessional poetry of my life in the few last years, structures of a dysfunctional family, in the middle of dealing with mental illness. A tragedy in the making of my brain turning into coal, ready to burn...
