I can’t take this anymore I can’t I won’t Platitudes Uncomfortable silences Say it! Just say it. I know what I have done to myself. I think I know what I have done to you. I cannot pretend to know what I might yet do. I have scars up my wrists Not so deep as I intended But still incriminating. I have secrets now. What have I been taught? What have I been taught? The value of silence. The true measure of loss. I have known NOTHING! My words become my enemies By poetry betraying the constant pattern of my thoughts My hands like disembodied Fascists Marching to a tune not my own The rhythmic song of the republic. What have I done? What. Have. I. Done? I cannot undo this. It is too late. For all that I’ve gained And the changes I’ve made If I could bend my life I would break it And snap out that piece The year or so that stands between me And the person I recognize as myself. I am allergic to emotion. Searching through the mess of papers And dirty clothes on my bedroom floor I see a picture Or find a small note in hurried handwriting And my lungs close up Chest tight and eyes watering. Something in me tries to reject this invasion This emotional incursion This threat to self. I have learned my lesson the hard way If I never reach out If I learn not to look back If I try to coach myself in the hardening of a heart Than I might just make it through, But I won’t be the same. Something will be lost. But I’ll be alive. I don’t know which one is worse. I will never be able to undo this And my hands ache from trying to rebuild this crumbling structure. I feel like I’m playing dominos with knives Trying to get all the points to match up And lead somewhere. I’m no good at this And no good for myself like this. I’m trying to do right by my family. Keep my mother together. I give her what I can. There’s so little left Every bit of me is going in to holding up this collapsing roof. I free one bit of myself And another bit moves under to take the weight Shifting it From left to right. My scalp is full of the grit of lost battles And demolished tangents. I got distracted for a moment And my world is falling down on me. I hate every piece of poetry that’s poured out of me lately It sticks to roof of my mouth Leaves a bad taste behind my tongue. The rhythms bother me The wording seems trite The things expressed unworthy and juvenile. I have yet to forgive myself.