Take One, Take Two

Take one trying to put myself back together. First tries are always the worst tries, quoting "don't fix a heart that you didn't break" but I'm here. Fixing my own. Image, picture me imagining myself in a welcoming place and then take me out and put me on the rocks. Darkness speaks to me on volume hundred, so did you when you told me that the door of departure isn't for you but you arrived in the same door and spent hours deciding whether to turn back or go straight in and still weren't done till I pulled you in. You never voluntarily comforted me until I... took your hands and wrapped them around myself and forced you into saying "it's going to be okay". When there are still no signs of okay near. Each night, anxiety sweeps me and my emotions together to an amusement park called inferno. Where the fire feels beautiful and your eyes feel real after watching yourself burn, I mean we've been doing that for quiet some time now. Can I rest my head on your chest? Take 2 trying to tell myself that I am better than yesterday when I know that each day feels the same. Without you around. All I do is shiver and question myself till sadness, and then decide to hop off the bus and walk to happiness where the same bus of sadness always finds a way of hitting me. "I am tired" is my favorite song to sing when "just sleep" is yours and I thought you knew me better than I knew myself, I thought you knew that sleep isn't for the broken-tired and it's only for the tired-tired. But you tell me now that you don't have time for my conspiracy theories when you'd draw unicorns under my name and thank with a forehead kiss. Take 2 trying to tell myself that I am better than yesterday when the 2nd takes are the riskiest. Dear self, I am sorry for these many takes that never worked for us, that never protected us or loved us, just kept on teaching us the same thing over and over again. Wearing our misery, well at least we got brainwashed in style.