Change seems hard
Especially when I’m not yet over it
Even now
I’m away but it’s stuck to my body like slime
The kind that all the showers in the world wouldn’t wash away
No matter how hard I scrubbed
I wish I could write things that aren’t so blue
But it’s become a personality trait now
I account for it in every plan or action I take
It acts like my plus one at a party
Defining my limits
Telling me who I’m not good enough to be around
Or that I won’t be good at this or that
Making me me consider it’s wants and needs
“But what about me” it croons
Reminding me to stay in my place
Where only it can hurt me
I suppose you’d call that an abusive relationship
But relationships imply two parties
There’s no one here but myself
I’m only ever hurting myself
Something about the sameness of it is comforting
It’s as if it or I know how much I can take
What will really drive me off the ledge
It’s exhausting fighting myself
I wonder often if I’ll win
I say I want better, but I don’t believe I act like it
But I want to do better
Maybe for now that’s enough
Perhaps it’s a step
After all time is said to heal wounds
Healing implies that I won’t be the same
And maybe I have to get used to leaving the sameness behind
Maybe expecting to be cured is going about it all wrong
I’m starting to realize that part of me may never completely dissolve
Like glass when it breaks, fragments will always be left behind
Ones that are too small to glue the cup back together
Maybe that’s the key
Learning to cope
Keeping the pieces so small that they only sting
Like some mildly annoying papercut
So yes I’ll learn to cope
And then maybe dare to hope
That there is more out there
For me
