Baby, sugar pie, Miss, Ma’am, Mrs. it must be me huh!? I’m getting carried away huh? I’m getting fed rubage and told to watch my tongue, huh? I burn my fingers as I brush these pranksters off. I’m not a patient person and that hurts me. I reconnect with all I ever had of her daily. The lame headgames outweigh the regrets I capitalize on.
The tortured brain in my head runs laps around the block. Tick… I block the tick’s tock. I ought to bring up what makes me sad, my insecure self erects mile high barriers I don’t even shake a stick at, sometimes. Holding my hand would have showed me you cared.
(I’ll loook forward to hearing about this, dw!)
We injected our hearts. I can’t even talk about how i feel about anyone these days without getting scared. I saw the doctor yesterday and got prescribed my first anti-depressant, I might as well embrace this struggle to and stretch my legs. I just need to stay steadfast.
Yea, you should have tried that too!
Believe me, I would work to explain myself more clearly but I’m going on 8 years with no sleep. My jibberish gets discarded like last weeks news articles. God’s got me.
Tuesday, actually, reading my work my cognitive specialist assured me my writing sounded like a rap. I’ll flow with that bro. I say no when I’m scared. That’s why you left, right. Because I subtracted my favor for two therapy sessions in a row, right?
I’m trusting God on this because I’ve kicked as hard as I could in every single direction. He’s got this. It’s called EMPATHY.
