Assemble

My grandparents get high off church hymns
And your parents get high off ignorance
And I get high off you
And when you leave
I get high off Morrissey’s breath
You see
I reek of self loathing
And it took you a while to smell it
But when you did
The scent was so strong
It was like I swimming in sewerage
I thought I could hide in your hair a little longer
But you told me
I need to be alone
And now I think I have taken it a little too far
Declining invites to banter in bars with friends
And my housemate knocks on my door
Tells me to go for a walk, to get some air, look at the sky
But I just shrug and get so stoned I forget what legs are for
There is a reason solitary confinement is a form of human torture
So I spend my Saturday nights
Listening to the same guided meditation audio
One, two, three, four, five times just to calm my nerves down
And I read up on how to be a whole person
Because there are still parts of me scattered in ex lovers’ poems
So I count down the days until I can wake up in a different city
With a cooler climate and fewer memories
And think about how I can leave my loose parts
In boxes beneath my parent’s house
But I know they are coming with me
They always come with me
Because I have had too many synthetic highs
Where I blame the comedowns on others
And I have spent too many nights looking up at the constellations of my faults
And I wonder
How I am going to assemble myself back together again
Like a frustratingly complex flat pack from Ikea
But I am lucky this time
Because in the past I have felt so damn destroyed
I thought nothing would resurrect me
But in hindsight
I was only disassembled
And I will assemble myself
Again and again and
Again

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