The Fucked Up S*** I’ve Done

i dont know whats the worst and i dont know where to start
i dont know how far back this extends
this selfishness, this neglect of those around me
the time that i didn’t go to sabrina’s mom’s funeral
i was out the night before, i slept somewhere in brooklyn
id made a friend and played some pool and woken up to a hot chai tea
made by a friend of a friend who i’d just met, he had a cute a** dog
and there is a beautiful person i know, who has been kind, so kind, so painfully kind to me
even when i was shut out and upset, selfish, selfish, selfish, i think she made me feel better about myself
hurting worse than i’ve ever hurt
this cant be normal, that kind of selfishness
i know i care and love
i know i hurt for others
like i hurt right now for that g****** the driver’s license who’s name i forget
GODFUCKINGDAMMIT if i could only remember
my fucked up wasted a**
she looked mean to me, how long did i think about it
not for long, why did it feel so inevitable when right now it seems so impossible, so painfully regrettable, and i didn’t even consider but i was there, i did decide, and i did it
those text messages i’ve sent, however groggily, to the friend who i resent
but deserves at least as much as a chance to grow
what was i doing, teaching her a lesson?
i’m the one who has to grow the f*** up
self-absorbed, self-obsessed, self-motivated, self-torturing, self-negigent, self-harming, self-mutilating, self-doubting, self-wasting
what if those nice things i do for people
when i go out of my way
when i carried every 4 year old camper across the monkey bars when it was 90
i liked to see them smile
was it because i just want to be liked
i go out of my way too much and share too much
is it because that’s how i get what i want
being good til i have friends
til i like myself enough to go to bed happy
till no ones looking
then i f*** everything up by getting myself in this sleepless, angry self-obsessed, self-torturing state with my organs churning and churning and my wrists screeming
their veins pulsing
for that thing that i won’t do because someone will see
yeah i feel it too, that angry girl that’s probably been hurt, and hurt, and hurt… i wish i could talk to you now and be your friend and give you back that dirty paper that i thought i needed so badly but now i can’t look at
two days ago i was just fine, ha, you’ll burn for a while, little a******
this site tells me to feel good about it but i don’t think i should… i think that’d make me even worse