Still Raw

I was hoping that another post

Explaining how raw I felt

After saying all that

Would help.

But it seems

That all that openness

Spilled back onto me

Burned me, crisped me, boiling,

Erupting voraciously.

I’ve been living as someone else

On the internet

For a short time now.

Only a little while

My alias is not hard to

See through.

But nevertheless

I enjoyed all this

As someone else

Now, it’s starting to take shape

From fantasy

To reality

Shhhhhhhhhhhh!!!

Don’t let them read

It’s safer to rhyme

The government can’t understand

Poetry.

I was hoping that if I worked hard

I could transform into someone else

Someone that people would read

Someone finely tuned to reality

My depression encouraged me

To feel shitty and quit

But my anxiety tightens the rope

Around my neck–

Writing loosens it.

Now I’m reading and re-reading and re-writing

Editing and revising

Revisions of decisions I revised and rewrote

All these ideas are now forming a noose

Made of words

Around my throat.

I will keep trying to write it all down

I will keep trying to not drown

But I am a volcanic cunt, remember?

Almost my whole body is

Drowning in the sea.

Can you drown, though

If you never learned to breathe?

Maybe, I’ve got some sort of super power

Some sort of something that makes me

Me.

Otherwise I’d be dead, certainly.

Well, I will survive today I guess

Tomorrow, we will see

What I’m really made of

Regardless of who claims me.


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