Pro Tempore

I have never felt so replaceable in my life.

Why does everything around this place feel so temporary?

Maybe it's the smell of lavender linen spray,

or the fact that my face wash smells like hotel soap.

The fact that I fold my towels on top of my toilet, or that I hang a robe on the back of my bathroom door.

A cup by the sink.

Hotel-esque.

Yet my drawers are packed with things, my closet is so full that I don't have room for Narnia.

If I can feel so temporary in a stable environment, does that make me replaceable?

Will this room go out for rent once I leave?

I've already been replaced in one, two, three ways.

Three ways already.

So soon.

Oh well.

I guess this will teach me to live for the moment.

Scrunch my toes in the carpet every once in a while,

and realize I'm not leaving anytime in the near future.

I'll see that same view out that same window with that same dream catcher for the next almost 2 years.

That's fine by me.

Life is irreplaceable,

life is pro tempore.

Recognize/Realize

It's me!

I just can't tell you. Yet, ever...

You'll read these and think I'm sick.

But everyone is.

I just can't say.

It's me...

It's me...

It's me.

Breakthrough

I mean break through the haze that covers your personality like a foggy mirror.

Because I know you're in there somewhere.

And I know the pills stop the pain and they stop the hurt and the bad emotion.

But they stop the good stuff too.

It hurts me, you know? To know that your smile won't stay in your heart.

But that little pill will, it'll keep running through your system.

Just dulling your emotions.

Just enough to make the pain disappear.

Just enough to prevent the excitement, the happiness, the rush.

I know you may still cry.

Everyone does.

And I can't fix you, I'm sorry. I already said that.

Take your best friend responsibly. It can help you and I can't.

Responsibly, responsibly.

Don't go all 'million little pieces' on me, please.

Just enough to make the pain disappear.

Just enough not to cry every night.

Just enough to feel something rather than nothing.

Just enough, and no more.

No more.

Mistake

'Promise me that if I cave in and break, and leave myself open, that I won't be making a mistake.'

You promised.

I let you in.

Let you see me, hear me, feel me cry.

Let you feel my pain, like I've never let anyone feel before.

Maybe it was too much.

I've told you a lot of things I've never told anyone.

Nobody.

Things that have made me who I am, but that nobody knows about.

And now I'm afraid you could tell them to the world.

This hurts.

I made a mistake.

I caved in.

I broke.

I left myself open.

And it hurts.

And I don't like it.

I'm sorry for the thing I said before I hung up.

I didn't mean it.

I'm sorry if you're hurting.

I just can't tell you, because I'm hurting too much.

Give me a while to piece back together my pride.

I'm sorry, sorry sorry sorry, hurt.

I'm hurt.

But we both made mistakes.

Both of us.