I like thinking about melancholy as a big black dog
as it has been described
your companion always close at your side
imagining this dog, dark and unwavering
brings me a very specific sort of peace

my body does this thing where it opposite of dissociates
where I really know how mine it is

some days I’m so certain we are communicating in a hidden secret language
of memories and lost love
other days I remember we’re just posting dumb shit to our stories

my whole life I’ve shied away from labels
I didn’t want to be anything, or anything to be boxed in
once I got health insurance and showed up to kaiser I shed all my morals

yes I am a 27 YEAR OLD CISHET WHITE FEMALE WITH CLINICAL DEPRESSION AND ANXIETY

are you able to waive my copay?

you do this thing now where if I won’t get off my phone or look at you
you ask me what I’m doing on my phone and it gets me excited and happy for a moment as I describe it to you and then can go back to my phone

I still can’t really pronounce the word cullingigus

I heard one time in a movie if you act out all of the symptoms of crying it’s the best way to get yourself to cry for real
so I tried for a while and it sort of worked
but I didn’t feel any better

I like to feel like the FBI agent assigned to me is mildly entertained

in all situations “read the room” is good advice I try to convince myself to take
but cut to me at karaoke night 5 minutes and 9 seconds in to welcome to the black parade

I think about you seeing me after all this time
and asking me how I ended up
with this car

do you think when moviepass was founded 11 years ago
that if stacy and hamet were able to see what it became today
that they wouldn’t have started it at all

I’ve been wondering that about a lot of things

24hr Chip

mental illness runs rampant
like a sort of forest fire

at a certain point you no longer attempt to contain
but instead predict outcomes and work with devastation

you mourn destruction a little less
and completely stop wondering what if

freedom isn’t an uphill battle
it is an imaginary light at the end of a very real tunnel we’ve been running towards for so many years

all the medicine cabinets, sock drawers, re-uptake inhibitors, intervenes calms
all the staggered breathing, lies and no phones home

no one's safe, really
false idols and broken father figurines
your mother has run out of tears and sleeping pills
and no one really works
but so many meetings

no one uses the addicted word
because we could all stop anything if we really really really wanted to

(it sounds as if we are in this together, but we aren't) 

so choose your vice then can’t think, twice
incapable of choosing to end anything
even your life

avoid mirrors and seek psychics
read your palm before the news

10 of cups reversed, the tower, so predictable, and cyclical

you can’t see clearly, and he can’t see clearly
and she can’t see clearly

me and you, we learned 12 steps before we learned to walk

these tired troubled hands seem as intrepid as twisted
something dark comes knocking

your ears are ringing

sometimes you can’t help but answer the phone

I like it when you snore
I like it when you sweat
I like when you touch my feet
I like when you cuss too much
I like when you’re out too late
I like when you surprise me at work
I like it when wear the same clothes
I like it when you’re around too much
I like when you kiss too much in public

Everyone walks around feeling like they aren’t quite enough
of who they are, or who they want to be

but what if the amount that you were, is quite enough

how would you be?