Day 37: “Stuck”
Grieving the living
Is its own kind of fuckery
A younger me
Remembers the good
The fun
And how to survive
How to placate
How to not cause problems
The older me
Has had the veil removed from my eyes
Knows the ways he affected me
Knows the pain
Can label the fear
But can hear his voice
Invalidating me
And the way he affected me
Making me the bad guy
But the scary part is
Part of me believes him
Faking It Made 