Fuck You, Nicely

Mind

Who do I go to when asking whether or not I'm allowed to exist?
Who has the right
Who has the mind to determine such a thing?

I watch through a movie screen of anxiety as my body moves and lives on.
Alive but not really living

I go between body's and minds

I go between eating too much and not enough

I go from smoking weed and drinking to telling others not to do the same as a gage at the mear sight—

I have yet to make my mind up on the world, other than endless paranoia that I'll die young.
That the world is too dangerous for me to walk down the street alone.
That every person I meet has expectations I'll never live up to and I'll be left behind.

I'm not who you think you'll meet.

I don't even know my own personality yet have the predictability of a kid in a candy shop.

I'll have the best days of my life then go to sleep a little too late one night and want to tear my very skin from my body
I'll feel bile crawl up my throat and my nerves going haywire and I stare at my reflection

My normal isn't happy it's numb
My downs are below the ground and
My happy is a content I feel staring at pages of a book

Looking into someone else's life and feeling emotion I only seem to feel looking at them, through them.

I think about the future a lot and can't help but feel as though I'll die young
My mother says she felt the same till 30, her friend has premonitions and had secured that she did indeed have a life past a few years
Im not sure I'll have the same luck, if I can call it that
Sometimes I wish something would just take me away so I could breath-
Just breath without the world waiting for the next

I'm not ready for love and don't know if I ever will be, is what I think
but for some reason when my dog was sent away
Soft cuddles, untainted innocents and endless love never to be seen again
I realized I was way more attached than predicted
I didn't cry for a week, thought I don't care enough too
However, when walking up the stars to my house at 11pm after a long shift at work and my parents asleep
I expected this stupid, huge, white husky dog to be standing on his hind legs looking at me through the window.

I expected love unrestrained where I felt I could give and receive without the anxiety and pressure of another's expectations to jump on the door upon hearing my footsteps yet there was nothing.
Absolutely nothing.

The house was dark and quite, parents already asleep and brother- somewhere

I broke down walking the few steps to my room and sobbed the few tears I could before I clogged up and I felt endlessly guilty for not being able to shed more

I wish I could have cried more