distraction therapy

the brain does this amazing thing
where it keeps reminding you of your pain
even when youre done
even when it’s long over
even when youre laughing with friends
or trying to finish an assignment
i tell myself to get over you
but then i remember the way you would
lift me a little off the floor when you hugged me
i tell my friends i am happy now
even though i still see your face when youre not there
and i still remember your number
even though i try hard to forget
have you ever tried telling your brain NOT to do something?
it’s like the rebellious teenager that never learns
anyways i learned the other day about distraction therapy
it’s a pain management technique
so what i do is this
i jog up a hill
and at the same time i listen to my favourite comedian
and as im basically dying
i cant stop thinking about how loud my breathing is
how much my chest hurts
and how fucking funny this guy is even tho i cant laugh
and even though it’s not the most ideal situation ever
i know ill be alright



your arms were made for lonely girls like me who hate themselves
who hate other women
my mother was cheated on and maybe that’s why i hate men

i crumble into the palms of your hands when my name tumbles from your lips like a silent prayer of thanksgiving

i could never find love in your arms but i am addicted to this punishment
addicted to the taste of sin addicted to this melting feeling in my gut
addicted to this guilt dont i deserve love too?

the flick of your tongue sets my body on fire your hands are like water soothing on my skin

there are days i hide from you and that’s how i prove i love myself
but most nights i find i cant resist
most nights i find you in between my thighs moaning from a place of torn convictions and shredded dignities
where there is only a veil between love and lust

maybe my heart fell out of my chest and is lodged between my hips and your lips

being with you is bruising and im constantly plunging off this cliff
but your mouth is so tender filled with ache and need and sweet words and cheap thrills
and laced with intimacy

you heal me
in this ungodly way
you are my healer my salvation
i am wounded inside
and your body is my morphine i give in to you wholeheartedly

but before even morning comes you are gone
and i am lying alone with only your scent and a heart filled with guilt
and regret and promises i know i will break when i see you again
and i wonder if this is punishment enough…

knowing that
but you were not made for me

a cruel joke



yesterday after lunch i thought
“wow. i havent thought about you since I woke up”
which made me think of you again
sometimes i hate myself

i still have some of your clothes
and sometimes i listen to your favourite songs
i dont know why i do
but i cant have you owning music
i dont want to feel you when i walk past our favourite places
i dont want to see your face when i think of our favourite things
maybe we have to experience this pain to be free
my god do i want to be free

i wrote a list of all the reasons why i loved you
and after writing it i cried for a long time
so i wrote a list of reasons of why i love myself
and it made me cry even more
i wrote a list of all “our” things
and i decided that i would give it back to the world

but most of the time i cry
and when im not crying i feel like crying
last week i burned the journal i had when i was with you
i thought it would help
as the paper curled and blackened in the flames
i promised myself this would be my last letter to you