The Things You Never Noticed

The things you never noticed about me

during the “8” hours you used to see me

every single day at work:

-I pack the same meal for lunch every day

because that’s what the food bank gave me.

-I also stick around an extra hour after work

so it’s one less hour I have to be home.

-I don’t speak up for myself because

I’m used to punishment if I do.

– I never talk about my home life

because honestly? It isn’t great.

-Yes, I still live at home, you know

because I can’t leave.

Financially? Maybe I could escape

but I’ll never be free of him.

 

 

I don’t blame you for never noticing.

I never wanted to show this part of me

Because at work, I am happy and safe.

I wish it had stayed that way

 

Dear Boss

Dear boss,

I care so much for these kids,

they’re my number one priority.

They’re all our number one priorities.

I worry about them day and night,

as I am sure you do too,

but now that the dust has settled,

I have to ask (and it kills me) but

what about me?

We’re worry about the kids at home

who won’t have enough food

or be guaranteed their meals.

But what about me?

We worry about the kids at home

who need help and support

who just aren’t getting it now.

But what about me?

We worry about the kiddos at home

who have stressful circumstances

that mean success is unlikely,

but what about me?

We worry about the kids at home

who might be abused or unsafe

without trusted adults there.

But what about me?

I am a selfless person

so it pains me to be egocentric,

but we’ve done all these things

to make sure our kiddos are okay,

but what about me?

Because I’m not.

 

Your Employee.

 

 

 

 

Isn’t It Funny?

Isn’t it funny how

concerned you are now that

if I go to the store,

I could catch an illness

and die,

but yet

where was this concern when

an illness was inside me

making me want to die

the last nine fucking years?

What I Needed

I needed you

on that cold January day

when I met to get my fix.

 

I needed you

when you denied me

and left me in the dirt.

 

I needed you

as my eyes froze

shut with tears.

 

I needed you

as my hand clutched

the pill bottle in my pocket.

 

I needed you

to keep me from myself

ending my life.

 

I needed you

and you left me there

to pick my own self up.

 

I needed you

but I don’t now,

That was 7 long years ago.

 

I don’t need you anymore.

 

Reality Check

Reality Check:

Life’s a dick

and you’re only kidding yourself

if you think locking yourself

inside your house will

keep the bad things from happening to you.

It may keep out a stupid virus,

but far worse things can happen

when you put somewhere

you feel too comfortable.

Trust me I know.

4 walls can keep out a lot,

but they also hold a lot in.

Your Most Vulnerable

Insecurity lurks in the deepest part of you,

waiting until you are at your most vulnerable

before sinking its teeth into you.

For me, it’s when I get too comfortable;

blur the lines between my hopes and my reality.

I think If I repeat something enough,

it surely will become true with time.

That’s not always the case.

I try to love myself and make myself believe

That I am good enough and deserve to feel good

but that listen voice whispers in my ear,

when I’m at my peak; all alone:

“But actually you don’t.”

It’s poison keeps dripping, from sharp fangs.

The rolling rock gains momentum:

“You don’t deserve anything really.

You’re kidding yourself if you could ever believe

that you can ever be happy, find love, feel pleasure

because why on this earth would anyone ever choose you?”

Words can cut you worse than catching a falling blade.

You realize what you’ve done moments before

you feel the pain; see the blood.

Insecurities find ways to surprise you

and remind you that when you think you are at your strongest,

you’ve actually never been weaker.

 

I Tell Myself

I tell myself

not to worry;

everything will be fine.

But my anxiety doesn’t listen.

 

I tell myself

let them be negative.

You can still be positive.

But my anxiety doesn’t listen.

 

I tell myself

their words have no power

unless I give it to them.

But my anxiety doesn’t listen.

I tell myself

to ignore their drama;

Don’t let it affect you.

But my anxiety doesn’t listen.

 

I tell myself

to just let it go;

Move on with your life.

But my anxiety doesn’t listen.

Choices for Voices

We have choices, choices, choices

to be made with difference voices.

And sometimes you speak too loud

because you’re feeling way too proud.

Other times you sit by, mute

your own horn afraid to toot.

It’s hard to tell when to take stand

or when to simply wave your hand.

You want to speak up for yourself

but may only hurt yourself.

Not My Job

I am suffocating in your guilt.

I didn’t get you into this mess.

I didn’t cause this to happen,

but yet I’m stuck dealing

with your consequences.

It’s not my job to be your pity party.

It’s not my job to make you feel better.

It’s not my job to make you less lonely.

Stop making it sound like it is.

I have a real job

with actual responsibilities.

I don’t have the time

or energy really to

deal with your constant guilt trips.

I’ll tell you what I tell the kids:

I don’t do tears,

Man up and get your shit together.

Stop suffocating me with YOUR problems.

I have enough of my own.