trigger warning: brief mentions of suicide, anxiety, and depression.
i thought of you today. my entire body went rigid with the picture of you in my mind, and i couldn’t tell if you were actually in front of me or not. the braids in my hair weighed me down as though you were pulling on them, but i realized it was just my childhood trying to drown me again. see, i’ve been painting over my suicide notes with colors brighter than my eyes when i was eight, and you promised to play a board game with me. i paint over them, because it gives me something new to feel, and something is better than what i wrote in those notes. i want to see you. i want to see you, but my body screams at the sound of your name, and my skin screams at your touch, but all i need is your touch- please. for my sake, tell me that everything was my fault, just so we finally agree on something, because right now, my stomach can’t even agree with seeing you, and every word i’ve ever said climbs up my throat and threatens to spill over if you don’t get out, so please get out! but, stay, because being away hurts, too, and it aches my bones; god. what’s happened to me. your name is like venom, but also the cure. i can’t have you gone, but have you here at the same time; i’m not a phone. phones make me sick, too, especially when you use them to call me, but when you don’t call me, i need you to call me, so please just call me, but you can’t actually call me. stop! i can’t have a war like this going on in my head; it’s killing all that’s good, and the storms are so bad, that my gardens are flooded with rain, and all of my flowers are dying. i can’t have you as a dying flower; here, but not here, so come here, but, you can’t really come here, so stay away, i need you to stay away, but i can’t let you stay away when i need you, and i can’t need you when i need you to stay away. someone always told me i was good at writing contradictions. i’m good at feeling them, too. i can’t do this alone. i’m not alone, am i?
love, the sunless wanderer