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.