submission #12

Sometimes I take it back
Sometimes I don't
But those times I just wish it didn't weigh as much
Those times I wish what happened didn't matter, that it could be forgotten.


Sometimes I miss you
Sometimes I consider forgiving everything you did wrong
Most times I remember how different forgiving is from forgetting
That's why it's only some times that I think about the good times
It's only sometimes that I imagine being the type of person that doesn't care.

And yet, sometimes those 'sometimes' seem like more times than other times
In those times I find myself wondering if it's worth it --
the not forgiving
the caring
the weight
And these times, triggered spontaneously, I hate
So most times, at the end of those times, I remember --
I remember who I am
I remember who you were
I remember that the only person who can hurt me more than you is me by thinking that 'sometimes' is enough

And I thank god it's only sometimes that I think like this

submission #11

I used to look up, look around. 

I like seeing things, where I'm going, who is doing what around me. 

I stand up and take in my surroundings. 

Not anymore. 

Now I look down. I keep my eyes down for fear of looking up, of looking around and accidentally seeing you. I fear seeing you seeing me or you seeing me see you.  Because despite the fact that I've thought about what it would be like to see you, in a way craved what the situation would do to us, I remember what it feels like to picture your face in my minds eye, and I realise that that encounter is the last thing I want.

That feeling and realisation is the reason why I no longer look around when I walk.

It's also the reason I no longer wear my glasses even if unnecessary, like I used to. With them on I see and I recognise. So I no longer wear them indefinitely, because without them I might see you but I won't recognise you. And if I don't recognise you, I won't feel the way I do when I think of you. 

If I can barely handle the feelings evoked by images in my minds eye, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I can't handle seeing you in person.  

I can't. 

And I won't. 

Until the sickening feeling I get when I think of you ceases to exist. 

submission #10

Flashes of memory assault me and I feel like I’m underwater. 

I reach deep and force myself to think of something else, anything else. The easiest thought is this. Writing it down. Making out of it something someone might enjoy reading some day. 

I hate how I feel it's only things that make someone uncomfortable that are thought to be interesting objects of study or literature. It’s those things, experiences, ideas, feelings that are prone to catch someone’s eye. 

And yet, I exploit it. 

Sometimes I make up uncomfortable situations, other times I exaggerate the ones I've lived. But other times, like this one, I just let it out, hoping they'll stay out and give me some peace of mind.