abner jay

The gestures are empty; I can't feel anything but anger. I can't let this go, afraid that if the anger is gone I won't feel anything anymore. My life demands more urgency.

I can't yet understand how you can be here one day, and then gone. I miss the way you used to make me hate my insides. I continue to hate myself, but I'm standing alone anyways. Nothing will bring you back.

I want to go back to park benches. I want leaves in my pocket, I want botanical gardens and unreality. I want cold winter days and music. I want to go back to feeling like someone knows me, I want to go back to feeling like I know myself. I miss my friends, the ones that hurt me and the ones that didn't.

Day to day, if I am lucky, I work myself so hard that I distract myself from all this. And then you are sitting in a car in the parking lot of Home Depot when it hits you all at once and you beat your head and sob. I tell myself that I am getting better, but my therapist turns to me and says "Challenge yourself" because I am obviously not.

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