fences

Tonight I write directly to this blank canvas because emotions are smothering me, it needs a wall where I can spill my hurt.

I can't seem to breathe right now. Pillowcases, wet. Feeling my heart double its beat. My toes hurt. My face, numb.

I am at my worst.

I live by promises. I live by rules. Simple pact that I think is valid. A fence if you will. Not to serve as bars, but as a security blanket to keep me sane.

So yes, I am at fault with my neuroses. I am imperfect. Broken. I like to think I am proud of it because in acknowledging that fact, you gain identity and direction.

But why is it not easy to comprehend that each teeth of a fence means a lot to my sanity? Worse, I am pushed away and made to feel guilty and insane for rules we both agreed on.

Over and over again.
Over and over
again.
Over
and
over.

Now I am at my worst.
And I can't seem to forgive myself for reaching that brink again where I will be another dysfunctional stereotype.

Over and over again, you make me lost my sanity over simple rules that would have save us...

or me.

But do you really care?

All you care about when your sorrys came out empty are those projectiles you throw at my direction, making sure it find a spot it can dig in.

Do you even have a point when all I ask was just keep your little promises?

I am at my worst.

I feel so tired. So empty.
I feel so ashamed of what I have become.

POUR POOR PURR

Have you ever locked yourself in a CR cubicle so you can just cry it out?

I have. Did, actually. Moments ago.
And many moons before now.

I had the mistake of not emptying these ducts that I accidentally let it pour while performing at Van Gogh Is Bipolar last week.

They say it was bare, beautiful, and inspiring. I justified it with other adjectives to make it seem OK, knowing matter-of-factly that it was not ok for me to be seen that way. I don't know, must be an ego thing. Well, I'll feel uncomfortable if an artist I paid to watch start shitting his performance because he can't hold himself together.

Thank God I found the courage to write here again. Been putting it off for reasons other than laziness. Maybe this can temporarily halt whatever that wants to come out.

I am continually finding other reasons why I exist. Sometimes I run out of excuses.