I was in an emotionally abusive relationship,
but all of my friends don’t understand the extent.
I’d even agree I have minor culpability
for using the stock reply provided me by toxic masculinity:
“Oh dude, she’s crazy.”
Which means typically,
“She didn’t let me party and got mad she ditched her on Thanksgiving.”
But here reads,
“I’m not sure exactly, but something vaguely cluster B that left me feeling worthless with little self-esteem, and the realization I hadn’t actually dealt with anything emotionally which caused me to further sequester and was quite isolating, and there was also the time she threatened to use my nudes, but I don’t remember exactly what the hell I had to do to deserve the threat even as a ruse. Scarier part is sometimes I still think I deserve it. Even after she cheated at least two times, possibly more, but not like I’m trying to keep score.”
And probably, I don’t want to be seen as vulnerable or something
or maybe typing this out once was tiring enough and I don’t want to remember all of the stuff.
The weakness, the guilt, the shame.
I’m still embarrassed, and I didn’t do anything wrong. I still feel like I deserved it.
Worst part about church weddings is the church part.
While listening to a celibate give advice about the holy institution of matrimony,
I find an old familiar feeling as I count the light and note their focus.
I sat for years counting the triangles on the ceiling of St. Jean Vianney
Twice a week until 15, Sunday and Wednesday
Once a week until 18, Sunday
There were over 400.
I still remember the pattern.
I remember the feeling
my personal rosary.
Oversized Tungsten rings
toddler’s father’s shoes
you’ll never quite grow into.
I read the other day
92% of people think
they’re much more moral
than most other people.
Do you think they just gloss over
all their minor transgressions
and minor suggestions
they received on how to be nicer?
All I know is I can’t monitor my tone,
and I should probably get better
at picking up the phone,
and I should definitely roll my eyes less.
So many little lessons
I’m so bad at implementation,
but at least now nightly water glasses
don’t crowd either of our nightstands.
I think I started this poem
as some form of self-validation
like thinking I’m worse
somehow makes me better.
At least I remember what
and how it relates
to my conscience.
92% of the time,
I think I’m much worse than I am,
but I really can’t tell
if that puts me with 8% of people.
You’ll never do everything
you know you could if you tried. You can try,
but not all at the same time.
Expectations aren’t in reality.
All my favorite albums
were written by people younger than me.
All the athletes are my age.
I guess it’s too late for me to be great.
I need to write more
at least I think so
sometimes it’s hard to tell if this thing is helping me or focusing all my self
My new therepist says I’m passive
But I’m pretty sure he’s a moron who probably thinks I’m some sort of wimp
But I’m not
I actually hate most things; I guess that includes me if you make a whole list
But it’s okay, I guess
I just want someone to yell at
Someone who has to listen
Someone I pay to take it all in
I pay to absolve my own guilt
Maybe 700 last year wasn’t quite enough
Enough is always a short hand for more than you have
But I think I have what I need
Except I need to accept it.
Except needing to accept it,
I have what I need.
I need to accept that I have it and accept it’s glad to have me.
I guess I don’t have enough then
Classic human condition
Maybe I’ll laugh a little and then go to sleep