I hate that my emotions are
fickle like a lover,
hot then cold.
I hate that I can be riding the high
of life
and in the blink of an eye
I find myself
curling into the fetal position
praying I don't cry
feeling like I almost wanna
die.
I hate that I can't hit
pause or rewind or fast forward,
as each would allow me
freedom from this incessant
pressure, this incessant
void, this incessant
loss.
I've lost so much already;
can't stand the idea of
losing more.
You can't lose what was
never yours to begin with,
yet when a connection is formed,
no matter how small,
it feels as though you're
losing when that connection
springs away-
like a rubberband pulled too tight.
Even when it's not really gone,
because it springs right back,
I still feel the loss every time.
The highs,
they thrill me
make me feel like I belong,
like I'm not just a hovering apparition
in this world.
You see me.
You hear me.
You make me feel alive.
Those lows though,
they ravage me like
a hungry wolf
on the carcass of a
once graceful deer.
Blood,
gore,
the gnashing of teeth on bone.
I feel alone,
so cold,
so empty,
and it feels like the end.
The end of everything that brings
light to my eyes,
a smile to my face,
hope to my heart,
comfort to my mind,
and
peace to my soul.
I hate that we can can mean
everything and nothing
to one another
at the same time.
I hate that I am jealous
when I have no fucking right.
But please don't hate me,
I do enough for the both of us.
I hate that I deserve to be in
this fetal ball on the floor.
My fickle emotions,
they're just putting me in my
place this time.
Don't worry,
I'll lie here for awhile
and wallow in the misery
of my own making.
Then I'll pull my pathetic self up,
and attempt to find that
high that I know is there
waiting
somewhere.
-MS
[Sherlock, I'm sorry. I had no right to pull the woe is me card. I should have kept it to myself or on the page. Forgive me?]
