pins and needles

glass shards. bleeding fingers. now is not a good time to give up on yourself, you know. now is not a good time to get stomach cramps from worrying all morning, and oh god why is thinking so nauseating? why is it so hard to just keep breathing?

mouse trap, and trip wire, and do you know how many lives depend on you here?

because the thing is… it’s not perfect. it’s never perfect.  not like it is in my head. and to be honest, i hate all of this. but here i go. locking the door, and tightening the handcuff, because i don’t trust myself. to say the right thing. to smile wide, and grab your hand, and sing the theme song of some tv show.

because you’re just… you’re not enough. you’re never gonna be enough. you know?


Poetry is really good at this–at describing something I don’t know how else to put into words. I’ve been in such a weird state of late; this thorny, prickly, constantly critical place, and so… I wrote this. I hope I did a good job at capturing something I don’t know any other words for. 🙂

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