some nights are worse than others

maybe i shouldn’t feel so alone but i do…

self- prescribed therapy, relive every painful moment and don’t repress the memories of your cigarettes, the memories of front porch conversations, of late night fights over music and religion, and this isn’t so specific, this is written to everyone who has hurt me, you all seem to fit some of the same molds, and i don’t know any of you now.  i’ve lost so many of the people who have shaped me, the people who knew me best and forced me to grow.  you are all a symphony of minor chords surging in my inner ear, surging when i least expect it, and i just want to shut myself in, four states away and forget that i loved you, that i gave you everything and got only myself in return, only lessons in the form of mistakes. 

some nights i regret how old i feel, how drained and exhausted, and i reject everyone who needs me, like a form of cruel justice.  you sucked out my life when you needed me most and left me here, you are all guilty of ripping me apart, and still i let my mind reel with guilt at losing you, like there was something more i could have done to save you, to keep you close to me and the reality is i should have left you afloat so much sooner.  but instead of letting you knwo i how i feel, i retaliate against the innocent.  i’m sorry, i’m sorry and i have nothing to give except my empty tied hands, except a room with a bed that i won’t share with you.  i’m tired of sharing and ineed to rebuild, quietly and i can’t be what you expect, i’m too tired to remember the profile i’m supposed to fit. 

i’m tired of remembering.  i’m ready to live in the present.  i’m ready to bind my wounds but they feel self-inflicted, like i should have known better.