i’m a mess when you’re not mine

the last time i was sober was when you were still with me
how long ago was that? i think it was about six weeks.
you said “nothing personal, dear, you’re just too much for me”
i walked home with shit-stained tears pouring down my cheeks.
i drank my weight in vodka, mixed with warm sunny d,
then took 3 herbal pills to help me fall asleep.

when i woke up 4 days later, i had two messages from you,
so i threw out all your stuff, thinking “i’ll make myself brand new”
i called up the friends you told me to stay away from
asked them to buy some coke and spent the night with them.

i came to two days later – couldn’t remember a thing,
my friend said i threw up and tried to swim in it.
then i called up my job and said “i fucking quit”
i hung up on them, imagining my younger self watching;
he said “can’t you see yourself? this is ridiculous!”
i shouted “fuck you” at the wall and my friend gave me more pills.
i said “what’s this i’m taking?” as i put it in my mouth
she said “shut up and swallow like the good boy you are.”
i tripped for twenty hours, then passed out for fourteen

when i woke up i found my clothes were stripped off clean
nobody claimed they’d seen them, so i stole some from the closet
when i got home i washed off the week i’d  just had.
shoved a dildo up my ass and cried for half an hour.
i didn’t check my messages in case you’d left some
i just sat in my room drinking away who i used to be.

my friend called me two weeks later and asked me to join them
i washed away the vomit that was covering my body,
crawled out my home and found her in a bin.
we took mary jane for several hours then i checked my bank account
i had more than i thought, and bought us all some coke.
we went to someone’s house and i was surrounded with smoke
they invited me to a foursome, and simply said “nope”
someone who looked like you offered me a lift home

to fuck myself up i made him drive the wrong way
said, “let me fuck you” and he replied, “okay”
when we stopped he made me shove his dick down my throat
but i questioned myself, and started to choke.
i changed my mind and tried to get out of his car
he said “shut up and swallow, like the good boy you are”

i made him drop me off two streets away from my house
scared he might come back to rape more than my mouth
when i got into my bed, i cried for a week
i spent every day drinking with really rosy cheeks

when i finally found the courage to check my phone
i had thirty two missed calls from you, alone
and another sixty messages, not all sent by text
you said “dear, i know you’re hurt but please try your best,
“i know what you’re like sometimes; please don’t destroy yourself”
i couldn’t read them all because my eyes watered up
so i called you up instead, and said “please comfort me”
you ran straight to mine in nine minutes flat
i didn’t even feel like asking you to take me back
i just cried on your shoulder and told you what i’d done
and you stayed completely silent as your arm went numb.

i fell asleep in your arms just like the old times
when i woke up you were crying and explained to me
that you were worried where i’d been and who i was with
you almost thought i’d died, until you saw i was online
i said “i’m sorry, dear, i’m just a mess when you’re not mine.”

2 thoughts on “i’m a mess when you’re not mine

    1. Oh golly, it needs to be said that this isn’t based on anything that’s directly happened to me. I was in a very bad place at the time, and my relationship with my partner was difficult; because of this, I had a lot of vivid, horrible thoughts of the stupid things my impulsive depression would bring me to do if we’d broken up at the time.
      However, I highly appreciate your support, all the same. You are a very caring person, and I hope no one ever overlooks this quality of yours.


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