Repeat Offender

Repeat Offender

By: Kali Dayn
It comes back again and again – a repeat offender
When you’re least expecting it and you have it the most together
The emptiness fills you – pushing out the memories of love and the warm feelings that form the foundation of your self-esteem
Like a tumour indiscriminately pushing everything out of the way
Without the same feeling of full, of substance

Some people describe depression as a deep well of sadness
I have longed for that feeling – any feeling
But my episodes start with not being able to wake up in the morning – startling me to bed
But if you asked me why – if I asked me why – I wouldn’t know
What to blabber out in response
And I would communicate even less than my socially awkward, stuttering pharynx is usually able to on a normal day
Because I shoved any glimpse of emotion so far down
That when I call into the deep cavern that’s supposed to be my heart
There’s no echo
A cavern so eroded, it can’t even muster the acoustics of calling back at me with my own voice

Because I wanted to be the easy girlfriend
Not the clingy – she calls me every 5 seconds – she cries on my shoulder and gets my good shirt wet – she needs me to hold her hand when she’s sick – I need to spend time with my bros – she misses me too much – she loves me too fiercely – what’s wrong with her – we only fucked twice – girlfriend
His privilege is that he was never taught to be the easy boyfriend
And so there was no habit to shirk
And even if he acted like the crazy girlfriend
His privilege is never being called the crazy girlfriend
His privilege is not thinking about this – not needing to think about my friends he’s never met judging him for loving too much
His privilege is that he can never love too much
He can never feel too much

And there will always be a room in my body with enough space for his feelings
Even if my bowels are shoved into my ribs
And the pillars of my soul prolapse below him as I try to hold him
This is it for me
My life/evolution
has groomed me to make room
for him/for a fetus
Even if I break
I don’t let break
So is a woman’s role
Repeated again and again like a tearing painful allegory
In her body
In her family
In her love

His privilege is that he can get a room without asking in someone else’s body
While I can’t even make room for myself in my own body
And so let me lie in my emptiness
It is after all my own doing
And the only thing I have
Even if it has no substance, at all.