I miss you and I can’t seem to fill the emptiness where you once existed – where your laugh could erase all the darkness; where I could do anything I set my mind to because you told me I could; where you held my broken pieces, put them back together and told me everything would be OK.
I miss dreaming bigger because you told me I could do it.
I don't feel all of this now, but I do feel some of it. I hope I don't go here completely. I'm trying not to, except for the "quick and passive" part. As soon as I get my apartment the way I want it (the way I want to be remembered) I'll be more than ready.
Fetal position
Warm blanket
Cool pillow
Should be comfortable
But
Anticipation of the
Shrill meep meep meep of the alarm
Keeps me from getting that
Extra 45 minutes
Suck it in
Trying to fasten one of
Only two pairs of pants that
Fit me
Why can’t I get
One of those sicknesses that make you
Lose weight
Then again
I don’t remember
The last time
I ate a vegetable
But
Anxiety attacks in the
Produce section
Healthy women in
Yoga pants and
Perky ponytails
Look at me with pity
Or
I think they do
I wouldn’t do it
Probably
But
After a bad car crash
I wouldn’t fight
Sometimes
I wish for a crash
Or
Something else
Quick and
Passive
Can’t
Concentrate
Can’t
Find the right words
Can’t
Sleep
Can’t
Make phone calls
Can’t
Get warm
Can’t
Stop sweating
Can’t
Read
Can’t
Write
Can’t
Get rid of the headaches
Can’t
Care