Refusing to tell mom about the gun in the drawer was a no brainer. I wouldn’t ever tell her about the plethora of weapons I kept tucked away every seven steps. It’s a military tactic I learned from a movie. It’s a last resort for if I ever have to end someone’s life. It’s less likely that it’ll be an external death than an internal one. I don’t tell mom about that either.
September 1, 2024
It’s nighttime and mom is locked away in her room. She doesn’t know I’m crying. She doesn’t know I’m sitting in the couch with my head tilted to the sky. Her sister walks by and asks me; “What’s wrong?” I don’t answer. I can’t. She wouldn’t understand anyhow and her talks would just make me hate myself more. I don’t say a word. I cry in the dark.
September 1, 2023
I’m at home. Life is good on paper but inside I’m dying. Selene is at work. At least, I hope she is at work. I don’t talk about the way I always think she’s cheating. I don’t really believe think she is. But who could ever love me the way she claims. God doesn’t even like me. How could she? I haven’t gotten out of bed in days. The room is a mess. I have been lashing out at everyone who loves me because their love is fake. It has to be. My love is. So is Gods.
September 1, 2024
I am locked inside my mind like my mother is locked in her bedroom. The air in here is stifling. The voices ever encroaching like dementors. They are here for my soul. I know them well, though we haven’t spoken in depth in years. Or perhaps I am trying to make believe that I don’t see them on the walls, breathing near the bed, and staring at me in the mirror. For the millionth time this week, this month, this year, this LIFE. I want to die.
It’s better for everyone if I am not alive truly. It’s better for God. He has so many gripes about me. He has so many complaints. I am not good enough, pure enough, creative enough. I am not holy enough, straight enough, Him enough. I am just me. I am just a person with a desire to be loved. I am just a person with a want for a quiet suburban life, studio speakers, pen ink, and a woman with a baby smiling at me while I work.
I think that’s the part that pisses Him off. The part about the woman and the baby. The part about the girl with the eyes and the skin that shine like the sun. The one I’d give everything up for with a smile. That one. That girl.
I stare at my shaking hands in the cerulean light I’m bathed in. My head is sweltering in the way it does right before I get a panic attack. It starts at the base of the neck and works it’s way up to the temples. Eventually, it takes your whole head captive in a ball of fire. It presses in and extends out like a bubble. A stifling, choking and oppressive spirit. I want to die. I want God to let me go.
October 23, 2023
The Greyhound is hot but I don’t care. I don’t care about anything anymore. She has sent me away. It’s my fault. It was always going to be my fault. I knew when I met her that all I wanted was to take care of her. I knew when I met her that I would fail. I did. I did it in the worst way too. Being the same kind of person I’d usually call a coward. Being the same kind of person that I promised her I wouldn’t be. I am the dementor in her nightmares. I am the cobalt blue on her burnished bronze. I am the shackle. The ball and chain. I am. I am. I AM.
September 1, 2024
I am holding cold steel. I feel the safety. The gelid metal doesn’t make sense with the feeling wrapping around me. Something like a blanket. I open pull back the maw of my beast and peer into it’s throat. She’s full. The fat golden instruments of salvation glisten at me. Even in the blue of the room.
It’s funny. I always thought I’d die underwater. Though, this does kind of feel like drowning. The water is thick and viscous. It’s hot like hell, which I believe I’ll be welcomed to soon. Hopefully dying to be holy is good enough for God. I can’t fake it. I can’t “abstain for the sake of holiness.” I can’t love a man. I don’t want to. I won’t.
That’s not true. I would if He makes me. I will. I will. I will. However, there’s a lot of other things I’d rather do. Pull out my teeth one by one with a pair of rusted pliers. Chew broken glass and pearls with a mouthful of half rotted bones. Pluck out my fingernails and toenails and squeeze fresh lemon over the wounds. Die.
I stood there holding the cold steel. Staring at hells hounds and the dementors. The shadows lurking in the corners where the blue light wouldn’t touch. I thought I’d feel more pain. More fear. (It’s under the bravado.)
I wonder who I am beneath all of these guises. Who am I beneath the millions of voices telling me who I am. Telling me about some “great purpose.” Some invisible calling. Some invisible God upstairs brooding over me kissing a girl. Loving a girl. Aching at night over one girl who I loved one time. I won’t ever. Love. Again.
March 3, 2021
She was there. There against my will. There, even when I swore she wouldn’t be. I have some deep intuition. I think I get it from my mom’s side of the family. I know too much too often. I didn’t ask for it. I don’t want it, but it’s there. I felt her coming before I saw her. Hell, I sat in her seat. I sat where she normally sits. We’ve had banter back and forth about my poetry. She inspired a poem so brilliant I thought; “I’ll never need to write again. I’ve hit my peak. Thank you.”
I’ve looked at this girl so many times. She always looks like she’s on fire. When she walks in it’s like the sun gave birth. When she walks in it’s like I’ve got something to prove. I don’t need to be seen by her. I don’t need to be loved by her. I do need to watch her exist, though. I do need to watch her breathe in a room full of strangers.
That night, I wasn’t going to go to the coffee shop for open mic night. I was going to stay swaddled in sorrow for the remainder of my evening. My friend forced me out. She begged me to come out. She wanted to see me and quite frankly, I had been in the house too long. I rolled out of bed, barely having the energy to get dressed. I threw on the nearest clothes I could reach. I stomped through piles of garbage, in my broken body, out to my broken car, to share my broken thoughts.
I walked in and something felt different. I put on a smile and it was real. I was warm all over and I didn’t know why. I didn’t feel like this when I was inside. My friend and her girlfriend greeted me. I sat close to them. I thought; “She’s not coming. She hasn’t been here in weeks. It’s fine if I sit in her seat.”
The thought hadn’t even fully formed before she walked in smiling like she knew me. Like she was sent there just for me. Like she was hurtling toward me at a million miles per hour asking; “You gonna duck or just stand there?” I just stood there. I just fucking stood there grinning like an idiot. She sat next to me and our shoulders touched. I knew right then that was all I’d ever need.
September 1, 2024
Unemployed again. For the second time this year. The last time it took me a year to get a job. It won’t take that long this time. At least I’m hoping. My head is still on fire, but I have shit to do. I have to send this text to tell my ex's mom that I can’t pay my phone bill again. I don’t know when I’ll be able to pay it — again. I tell her to shut it off. Let it disconnect. I tell her I don’t want her kindness. I don’t believe I deserve it.
She decides she’ll pay my phone bill until I get back on my feet. This is the second time. This is the hundreth time she has shown me a kindness. This is the hundredth time I am unsure if I will be around to repay it. I cry in the bathroom because it’s wrong. It’s condemned but I don’t understand why. How could a relationship that gave me the kindest hearts in the world be wrong? How could this love I still carry around be impossible to have? How could this love be damned? How could God hate me so much?
Downstairs I hold the cold steel. It’s cold alright and my brain is on fire. If it is a sacrifice He wants it is a sacrifice He will get. He will get it in blood. The way He likes it. I will deliver.
I hold the steel to my head and close my eyes. I pull the trigger. I press the knife. Neither death has any sting.
