Air Conditioning

Another thing

Fix one thing,
Another breaks
Till small things ring
With a pain that shakes

Me down,
Will I drown?

The tears certainly make me feel
As though I am, and yet I'm here,
And things still have appeal,
And I live on, though my will is mere

But only for a moment,
Cause all things will pass,
The world shakes us with it's movement
But life's not always crass.

Stress piles on and suffocates and drowns until
it's heavy,
Crushing,
Pressure pressing perilously
Right on top of me.

The dam breaks and tears fall and it's a reminder that I'm
Falling,
Faster
Into this mess called life that
Pushes, powerlessly paralyzed
Against the weight of need.

Despite what I strain to be,
I'm struggling amongst the tempest,
And the heavens may hear my plea
But they aren't known for kindness.

They give me what I need but never what's wanted,
I need help,
But I wanted to find it on my own, not find myself stranded
A pathetic whelp.

Without their help I'd be hopeless.
Thirteen hundred dollars.
And there's still more rain coming,
But I grit my molars.

Brave the storm and keep moving,
Thunder striking, surging through and out.
Could be fifty hundred more, proving
I was wrong, without a doubt.

---

It's another day now,
It wasn't fifty hundred more
An aborted message, here lies how
My panic lies in bloody gore.

Another problem rose and it hurt,
But someone came and saved me,
Even though their presence was curt,
They helped me more than I could.

I'm not independence
I'm not self sufficiency
I'm not a symbol of what all children
And soon to be adults wish to be.

I rely on those I care for,
As I have for years, but
For some reason, for some reason..
They don't mind anymore.

I used to feel the brush of sickly guilt,
At the words they said to me,
And now that I'm leaving
They have no more poison left to spew.

Vinegar becomes syrup,
"Why did you fuck up" becomes
"It's okay, we'll look out for you".

It's out of fear, I know.
A desperate attempt to cry
"Don't go, we're useful!
Don't leave, we won't leave you!"

Stranded, drowning...

But they did.

He, though, never will.

No matter how mad he is, he knows I'm not faking.

He doesn't see the rain as manipulation,
Rather as honesty,
What it truly is,
A reflection of feelings I'm drowning in filling me up and spilling out of me from those ducts.

Years, YEARS, of being called
A liar
A fake
A manipulator
A burden, unspoken and heavy and terrible and leeching and tearing and hurting and hurting and hurting-

Why be so sweet to the Leech of 17 years?

He doesn't do this to me. I will never not be greatful for this.

But those 17 years of leeching have worn me down,
I don't like to ask for help,
I don't feel worthy of trust,
But he does anyway.

He sees straight through me to what I need and rips it out into the world through his own words, speaks my needs into reality, and brings them to fruition like it's the easiest thing in the world.

And I wish, I so desperately wish, that I had known more like him before this point.

He's one of a kind, and I love him with all of me.