On Repetition

How did I do this to myself again 

How did I let myself fall into this again? 

And why am I still sitting in this bar, waiting for you to look at me and say you want to go home. 

I’m listening to your friend’s girlfriend talk about poetry and how classical music is more legitimate than others and speak of her nihilism so that you don’t have to deal. She’s talking to me about her art as if it means anything that she only writes in moleskins so you can play your goddamn pool game and I’m just sitting here like. 

The fuck is wrong with me. 

Because I want to leave. I want to leave and go home and remember what it feels like to cry. 

What the fuck have you done to me. 

I felt better when I was around you. I felt whole, I felt like a better, calmer, more fun, more relaxed version of myself 
But today I feel like I’m trapped in the spin cycle of a washer 
Wrung out like a rag, twisted and misshapen 

You asked me 
I don’t understand how I’m not hurting you 
But right now, you are. 
I feel like hell. 

And I did this to myself
And I’m doing this to myself the longer I stay 
The longer I let myself remain in this place where I am just inherently unhappy 

You didn’t want me here 
I can see that 
Can you tell me to go home? 
Give me something to do other than chaperone for the people you don’t like
Telling me to order your drinks, watch your shit, take your photos 

Fuck 

Why can’t I walk out the door
Why can’t I leave without saying goodbye 
Make you see I am the farthest fucking thing from okay 

How is it your friends know more about my life than you do 
People I adore, who will be gone the second I develop the self-respect to say no, I deserve more 

 It is so inherently fucked 
That you told me you hate yourself 
So you don’t want to commit yourself to me 
And I hate myself so much
But I just want to commit myself to you 

I don’t want to hate myself 
I just want you to talk to me like a fucking human being 
And that one thing I’d asked you for
To tell me when you’re done
To tell me if you’re leaving me for someone you loved
You can’t do.

So now, I sit here, rereading through these words, remembering my drunken self writing them and wishing they were more melodramatic than they were 


But this is the truth

I thought I could handle your heartbreak and I can’t
I hate how much I want you
I want to be stronger, and I’m not.
You told me you would hurt me, and you have. 

Are you happy you know that now?

On Loneliness of the Third Type

I want to be alone, with you. 

Does that make sense?
I want to be alone
I don’t want to talk to you
I don’t want to do anything
I just want to be alone, but with you there 

Because you won’t tell me I need to talk, or be anything other than what I am being 
And maybe just being with you
I’ll be able to talk to someone 
Express the feelings that swallow me like a black hole
Pulling me in 
Pulling me under 
You don’t ask that of me 
So I feel like I could give it 

Does that make sense?
I doubt it 
I’m rambling 
Sitting in a lavender scented tub with a damp notebook and a hand trying to fly away from me 

I don’t want to tell you what is happening, but I also do 
I want you to know
To help me lift some of this weight off my shoulders 
Not pick it up for me – you wouldn’t, and I would hate you if you tried. 
But just keep me company while I set it down for a while 

A rest between sets
A momentary pause 
To breathe 
And analyze where to go from here 

Because in between the call that never came 
And the texts with no reply 
And the words still ringing in my ears 
Between the voices in my head telling me to stop 
Not to try 
That I will only ever fail, at everything 

I think of your face 

So, yeah
I just want to be alone, with you 

It’s all I want to ask of you