I'm starting to feel
icky again.
I don't want to brush my teeth.
(It's too much work.)
I don't remember
the last time I
washed my hair.
I should chop it all off
because
I want to pull it all out.
And moving my arms
up and down to comb it
is simply
too fucking exhausting.
(I tell her I love her, but she's not talking much at all.)
I'm picking fights
with him
because I don't want
to do this
anymore.
And maybe I just realize I deserve
more.
Maybe I don't know what the hell
I want.
But most of all I hate
that I'm using you
to feel something
and now—
I feel something
and I fucking hate that too.
I want these wanton thoughts
to disappear down the drain.
How do I say I simultaneously
want you to hold me and comfort me
but enjoy when you're dispassionate and even unkind.
(That's not something healthy people say.)
Can you stroke my skin but
don't ever kiss me.
I begin to understand
how you make me
so sick.
In a year I know I'll be fine,
but I'm allowing myself
to settle into
my sadness and
discontent.
The only way to get over this
is to go right through it.
I am enough.
