Dear Brain

Dear Brain, please stop thinking. You are overdoing your job, and sending me into a tailspin of emotions. You allow me no room to breathe. No space or time to catch up. And I am sick OF THIS SHIT. Of this whole world, all it's inhabitants, this fucking "plan" that is supposedly in existence. I keep thinking that everyone else knows all the details, and I'm just left here not knowing where everyone went, helpless and not knowing what to do.

Dear Brain, please settle down in there. You are making me think again. Think that I am alone, with no one to help me. Think that I would be better off gone. Think that I'm going insane with no back up plan. No rescue coming to my aid in these dangerous waters.

Left to your own devices, you are nothing but a menace, waiting for night to come so you can jump quickly, pounce, attack, and leave me paralyzed with fear. Fear of things that have no business being feared, much less being thought about by me.

Dear Brain, thank you for finally settling down. I can go to sleep now. There is peace again after the raging storm. Even if it is only for a little while.

Dear Pain

Dear Pain, I hunger for you, ache for you. You are a long-time friend, a long-time adversary. You feel so good, slowly making your way across my skin, allowing me to finally fucking feel something, anything. You and I have been separated for quite some time, but I do not have to have a razor anymore to feel you.

I miss you sometimes, most of the time actually. I miss the blood, the stinging itch of a healing cut. But you comfort me no more. You feel good to me, but others hate you. They hate what you make me, a shell of myself. You bring them more pain than you do me. 

Dear Pain, I wish you could still comfort me, but I began needing more. Hotter, sharper, more dangerous. Deeper, longer, closer to death. An unending cycle of hate, love, pain, desperation. I almost envy others who still have you as a friend, a comforting ally.

You seduce those who think about you. Just once you say. But I know better now. 

I have known better for one year and five months. But it is hard, so hard to not give in. 

I am thankful for those around me, keeping me from myself. Keeping me alive. At least I live to fight another day.