I can’t stand this anymore I had this thought I will not come back from my lunch hour I will die in this place where so much happened In a place I find beautiful I do not know when I learned hate I do not know when I forgot how to live But every part of me aches And I want nothing more to do with myself. Despite my resolutions I am still alive And I am still here typing Writing Create useless hapless works. They do me no good They do no one any good. I want to sleep. To sleep and know no more. I am in need of a rest longer than life can grant me. I wish I had never started down this road. I wish I could rewind Drive myself back to that point before Before I made choices I would regret Before I felt myself irrevocably changed Before I lived the moments That brought me to this moment. There is no blame No blame Life is what it is. If to save my life I have to cut myself off from all of this I judge it not worth it. I must feel to live And if feeling makes it so I cannot bear to live Than I must find another way. I cannot turn around And I cannot go forward I am caught in between two moments of being. Suspended, my heart beats And my body beats in time And my mind thrums with it. The rhythm is irregular There is a pain in my chest Crawling up my throat and into my mouth. I cannot breathe. I cannot think. I do not want to do either. My limbs are so tired from chasing myself in circles. I down a painkiller It does me no good I can still feel And I can’t remember how many I’ve taken Or when. Things would be easier If I could just get my memory back in working order. Some quote From some book That I read once “I remember what I would not And forget what I should not.” I remember a mad woman’s life story But forget my doctor’s appointments And lose my keys. I remember the pain that shook my childhood as if it was yesterday But cannot remember How many days it has been If it was yesterday Or tomorrow Or Thursday That I wounded my body trying to find a moment’s peace. I can’t remember how many months Since I caused the scarring that runs from thumb Nearly to elbow. I can’t remember what I’ve done Or the order I’ve done it in. The aspirin kicks in a little The sharpness gains some dullness. Funny how it is That the pains From a weekend spent fixing up my home Bruises like odd grey roses on my skin Do not prompt this painkiller love affair. They make me want to curl in ragged bundle and sleep Or crawl into a hot tub and stair contemplatively at the ceiling But the thing that stops me is the same as that which makes me swallow tongue heavy in my mouth. I have phantom limb syndrome of the brain. When I think, it is dangerous And my sleep is fitful And haunted. I cannot do this much longer. Lack of sleep And lack of faith Are catching up with me. Something is missing And it is killing me.