I'm Tired Of This Ritual

Too many insights. Too many realizations. Long way to go. Sit tight. 🫠

— In the Future, Jay Hulme, in '100 Queer Poems, an anthology' (2022)

[text ID: I've forgotten what my face looks like / but can easily describe my spine. / The way it bends under pressure, / the way it curves, but will not break.]

How little there is to listen when you stop.

“It could’ve been worse.” It could’ve been BETTER. It could’e been EASIER. It could’ve been lovely. It could’ve been beautiful, it could’ve been fun. It could have been simple, it could’ve made you HAPPY. 

You can drown in two feet of water just as simply as you can in an ocean. Stop downplaying what happened and neglecting your feelings. Kill that idea with fire. Or at least acknowledge that what happened was bad without immediately trying to justify or dismiss it.

Low and low, I sink

lo and behold, I crumble.

The urge to just destroy myself. To cut off everything. To go radio silent on everyone because my brain is absolutely convinced I'll be best off alone, locked in a tiny little box.

Why can't I just have a moment to breathe? To actually enjoy my bit of happiness I get here and there.

I can't form so much as a tear

but I seem to be drowning still.

My name is written in agony and love that consumes me.

Tw: abuse

Just survived a couple hours with my abuser while casually chitchatting around family. I need to run away.

Lol I hate being fucking self aware.