After the Happy Ending

I try to stay inside
the fairytale
After I’ve read the last words
That tell me
A happy ending was had
By all.

I lie still
And relive
As many moments as I can remember.
I hear the words.
I see the movements.
I allow myself
To be washed
By silent emotions
Until the waves
Grow tired
Of crashing
And eventually recede
To their rightful place.

Even then,
I dare not move.
I shudder
At the thought
Of returning
To life as I know it,
So devoid
Of passion,
Of rhythm and movement,
Of action and drive,
Of purpose.

I find the music
And let it carry me
For as long as it is able,
Till I must finally
Answer the call of reality
And walk in its shadow again.

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no explosion

no explosion.

i sink
into my smile,
allowing my shoulders to rise
and hug my neck

the music
coming through my earphones
suddenly
sounds
clearer.

no explosion.

the day didn’t go up
in flames.

i let myself breathe
for the first time

since waking up this morning.

i look forward
even more now
to seeing my friend after work.

no explosion.
no fire.
no flames.

i sink
into my smile

and rest

in joy.

oxytocin

clocks that work
smiles that are genuine

i lower my head
and concentrate
on the discomfort
around my right temple

tea

it’s not quite doing the trick,
but i drink it anyway
because i’ve told myself
that it will work.

i talked about my father today.

i drank with him two weeks ago.

my forehead.
the discomfort has moved there now.
i’m still drinking the tea.

oxytocin.
one person.
a friend.

i still can’t believe my mother is dead.
life is a shit hole.

i don’t have enough money to get out of it yet,
but i dream about the days when i will be out

up

away

smiling.

there will be pictures
and languages,
i will feel good.

when i’m not away,
i’ll do work that i love.
i will not dread each day as it begins

and in all this loving and seeing
and colour,
maybe i’ll find a clock that works
and smiles that are genuine
from one person.
a friend.

Waiting

Lost in sad songs
I feel my full bladder
And ignore it
Because there are other things
That are becoming too much for me

I check the time again
And it’s early enough
Still.
I think again
About all the things I want
And feel my empty hands:
None of them are there.

I roll over
And look at another spot on the wall.
I’m waiting for something –
For this night to pass,
This feeling maybe.

I’ve been waiting for a while.

December

A few months ago, I began a sporadic search for a therapist. I’ve wanted therapy since the ninth grade. I am 25 years old.

This week I fell sick. I was home for two days and during that time I was also…”suffering” from a really low mood brought on by what may have been a misconception of someone else’s attitude towards me. This is a pattern I have noticed in myself where my mood takes a sudden drop at the idea of someone being displeased with me in anyway. In my head, I know this is nonsensical, but the sudden drop in my mood always occurs as a reaction that I have no time to think about or any control over. I am always having to talk myself out of it, because I know it doesn’t make sense for me to feel the way I do, or at least not as strongly.

Today, after reaching out to several therapists in my area throughout the week, someone finally got back to me with a positive response – except I’m not really available when she is. I knew this would be a problem.

In any case, I’m writing this here because I keep seeing myself typing on a computer. Suddenly I want to share again – to no one in particular, to anyone who might happen to read this.

To you, whoever you are, I’m starting to do things with intention. Wherever you are in your life, don’t be too hard on yourself.