Inconsolable

One of the worse parts of anxiety

is the irrational worries and fears

it puts in my head.

Or maybe it’s the hours spent up at night,

lying in bed crying,

where I whisper to myself that it’s not real.

they’ll never happen.

Just keep pushing past them.

But what am I supposed to do

when one of those fear turns out to be true?

The pain going through my being

is inconsolable.

How do I tell myself that nightmares

are not real when they become reality?

Leaves Beneath Your Feet

Sometimes the harsh crunch

of leaves beneath your feet

can make you realize

just how fragile life is.

 

Something once full of life

and service to give

now falls from the top

and withers away to nothing.

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.

 

Throw Me a Bone

I feel like a dog from a cartoon

with a bone dangling in front of my face.

It’s right there.

I can see it.

If I wanted to, I could reach out

and grab it.

I could have everything I ever wanted.

But I can’t.

The second I get too greedy

and try to take it before it’s given,

it will be riped away from me.

It’s so hard.

It’s so tempting.

It’s right freaking there.

Sometimes, it’s like the bone is

purposely pushed closer to my face,

making it so hard to ignore

just to test my limits.

I can’t tell you how many nights

I’ve been up late crying because

I want nothing more than to take

this freaking bone that’s in my face.

It’s so obvious that I want it

and it seems so obvious that I can have it,

but every time I get to confident

and try to go for it,

it disappears.

And I’m left empty,

punished, for falling for the bait.

Why do you put me through this?

Why do you torture me so?

Just throw me the god damn bone

or throw it fucking out.

I can’t handle it anymore.

 

Control

I like to believe that I am in control.

That I am independent.

I mean I worked my ass off for a degree

by myself.

I saved up for 5 years and bought a car

by myself.

I have a good paying part-time job

by myself.

I’m looking for a big girl career now

by myself.

But yet no matter how what I do

to make myself feel like

an accomplished adult

I will always be trapped.

For I may have a degree,

a car,

a job,

but you will always make sure

that you still control

some small piece of my life

so that I always have to come back

to this horrid place.

You will always keep me dependent

so that I can never escape,

even though this atmosphere is toxic

and is killing me; suffacting me

making my accomplishments

as worthless as myself.

Go Out Walking

Every day I  go out walking

miles and miles of trails that wind

hoping, and praying,

to leave myself behind.

I’m looking for a new me,

one I can face in the mirror

because now all I can see

is someone far inferior.

Sometimes I think it’s working;

that all the struggles are worth it.

I  do everything correctly,

but nothing has changed a bit.

No matter how hard I work,

no matter how hard I strive

I’m greeted by the same person

at the end when I arrive.

Too Many Times

Too many times in the course of history

woman have been told to sit back and be quiet:

the men are talking.

 

Too many times in the course of history

woman have been told their opinions are cute,

but it’s the men’s who count.

 

Too many times in the course of history

woman have been told to stop talking

because the men don’t agree.

 

Too many times in the course of  my history

I have been told my opinions don’t matter,

by men of course,

simply because I see the world through a different lens

and thank God I do

because someone has to look out for someone

other than themselves.