Waking up to the terrible sound of… nothing. The void in your head. The scratching? The shouting, of everything at once, yet unrecorded and nigh intelligible? Where is it? Who lets you feel this discord? It’s you. Come to terms with your demons. Some aren’t meant to be shared.

Somebody important to me went through couple’s therapy, and shared with me a helpful tidbit:
“Your partner is not your therapist. Not everything needs to be shared.”

Come up with all sorts of reasons for why that is. Maybe it’s just a way for doctors to get more patients? Maybe the writer (me) is more comfortable with keeping a layer of privacy? It’s interesting, what I feel I need to validate, to verify, and to rationalize myself. If you’re anything like me, I hope you can learn from our one-sided chats here.

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Anyhouse

static
I got nothing in the attic
when knocking just to happen
I slap n’ rehabin’
but the doctor says I’m fine

so let’s rewind

Cause I’m hoping for anything
something in store
I’d been clawing my eyes out and
reaching for more
But I know it’s just up there
I’ve been here before so
what comes after this is just painting the floor

and I’m blue
but I’ve been here too
a clear reminder what could be for me and for you
and I’m dragging it all out of bed in the morning
to fend off a warning that keeps pushing through

and the hurt that keeps coming the same every day
I’m a mirror contender just playing to stay
if my current condition could publish my books
I’d be fine on my own on the streets with the crooks

look
I’m lost but I’ve found
before I adorn my six feet underground
I want to matter to someone
and I don’t care who
but the pounding heartbeat makes it hard
to listen to you

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Listen. I know it’s a lot. Life can feel like a burden. I can’t promise you there’s more than you’ve been around, but I can hope you let the sun in. Just start with opening your eyes, and I’ll open mine. Are you ready?