pls @anyonewhocanmakeitstop

i keep making vaguely suicidal jokes and references on this post, but that's not great, is it. probably shouldn't put that out there for the public.

 

*delete*

it has been a hell of a year.

and it's not done. it's not over yet.

i just need it to be over.

Within, without

the closet door sticks
a hesitant heaviness to the handle

but I yank it open.

close
closure
close door
close her in

crisis

it's stuck.

she is me
she is free
we can be
we must be

but I scrape it shut.

the closet door clicks
a lost lament in the latch

It goes in cycles.

It is...very frustrating to be fractured. You have a couple of days that seem okay, and you try on a smile or two, and they don't hurt. You let yourself imagine a future where that is normal. You feel almost....good.
And that is exactly when it all goes to hell and you realize suddenly that leaving the house today was a mistake all by itself. Everything is too much: lights too bright, voices too loud, and there is somehow a rumbling growl under everything that shakes you to your spine. You are stuck on a bench, frozen there, unable to get up and go home but about to cry in public if you stay.
You thought you were past this, and you hoped that things were getting better. Guess you just forgot that you're fractured.