Narcissist

Narcissist

Friendship Is not an obligation And I wasn’t leaving Until you pushed me away. You stupid men Treat me like an accessory- A date to concerts And a dining partner. And god forbid I don’t answer the phone. I’m not a possession Not a trophy to be won Or even earned. And you feign worry- How am I doing, You’ll ask- But all you want to know Is have I been out With someone else. Which is none Of your concern. You have A singular motivation- Accidentally brushing my hand, A casual touch of my thigh. You’re not fooling me. And god forbid I shut down. Maybe I don’t want to talk about it. Maybe you push me And make me anxious And you hurt me And I can’t be That person to everyone. The non-emergency contact. If you wanted To be my friend You’d understand that. You would...

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Everything

Everything

Can I live? Can I go to the grocery store And buy some goddamn cookies Without getting followed around? Without a “damn, angel,” Or “he’s a lucky man.” I don’t need no man. Also, leave me alone. Can I live? I didn’t dress up for you this morning. Nobody’s going to see these thigh-highs but me. This dress was my mother’s. And I bought this necklace on a trip with my sister. I dressed up for me, To make me feel better. Now I feel dirty, somehow. Violated. You’re the gross one. Can I live? Can I have a seat away from the bar? I smell the liquor. But I can’t have a single sip. I can’t even trust my own mind. I feel insane. Self-destructive. It never bothered me before- I accepted it, Made it part of me. Now I will against it, Fighting myself To the death. Can I live?...

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Oblivion

Oblivion

Mommah Never got To see me sober, She saw me In pain, Pretending I was fine. She knew better. I wanted her To feel better about leaving So I faked strength And drank myself Into oblivion. Maybe, to some, My ‘rock bottom’ Doesn’t seem so dark. I have a home, my job, a car. And, for that, I truly am One of the lucky ones. But I’ve been living In my own personal hell For over ten years, In my mind. Trapped And blinded By guilt and regret. Stuck in the chasm Between addiction And allergy. Slowly, Steadily, Self-destructing. Barely perceptible To the naked eye, Like watching grass grow. But mommah knew. I hate That she left this world So burdened. I would give anything Just to see her, Talk to her, One more time. I just want To hold her hand. So, mom, If you’re out...

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For Love or Money

For Love or Money

I have recently found myself struggling with balancing my job (complete with managerial promotion) and my relationship. I never thought that I would be the type to put my work first. I distinctly remember watching movies like Baby Boom in high school, seeing Diane Keaton run around like crazy with this baby, trying to get rid of her, and thinking “what a terrible person would make that choice, of course you should choose a family,” and now, I’m not so sure. It’s not that I’m talking about having kids. I just mean the basic principle- should you put your job first? Is it only okay to put it first if it’s your career? Is it never okay? You have these people like the ‘Princeton Mom,’ encouraging young women to find a...

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