Invisibility is My Best Trait
I am sick:
I do not know how, or why, or when it happened,
but I am sick.
My mind is falling off,
and my heart is growing old.
My body is breaking,
breaking down slowly.
I am angry:
I can’t explain why, or at whom, or when it will end,
but I am angry.
My knuckles are white,
and my lungs are exploding.
My teeth are bared,
bared at anyone.
I am hurt:
I don’t remember when it started, or why, or if I will let it end,
but I am hurt.
My eyes are not red,
and my lips are not frowning.
My heart is not broken,
broken nor bleeding.
As it turns out:
The most obvious things,
don’t matter the most.
—
2010. This was written near the end of The Ex. I had felt this way for a good four months and it took four and a half more to figure out why I was sick, angry, and hurt. He inspired the first line when one day we got into an argument and he told me I was “sick”. I had a problem and he couldn’t fix it; I was unfixable by his standards. He couldn’t see how hurt or angry I was, but he could see that I was sick. I wrote this poem during the middle of the night, bawling my eyes out. This was a real turning point in the relationship. This poem—this “word vomit”—showed me how unhappy I truly was.
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