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?
Another 12 Step meeting,
Another “keep coming back,”
“Thanks for sharing.”
I don’t want to do this.
It’s so hard- haven’t I done enough?
Endured enough?
How many more dues
Do I have to pay?
I fear this will never be over.
Can I live?
Stop asking me what’s wrong,
Pick a thing.
My life has always been a shit show,
And my mother died,
And my abusive relationship ended,
And my trust and my heart is broken,
And the only way I ever knew to cope
Is the one thing I can’t do.
I tried to drown my sorrows
But they never died
And now I feel them all.
All at once.
What’s wrong?
Everything.
Can I live?
Can I just go on a date?
Can I spend time with a man
Without wondering what he’s lying about
What he wants from me
What his secrets are?
Will I ever trust anyone
Ever again?
Even with those I love the most,
I am guarded.
I don’t want to be- but I can’t help myself.
I must protect my fragile heart-
I can’t take much more of this.
Can I live?
I want to be happy
With being alone.
I want to miss my mother less,
I want to focus at work.
I want to achieve success,
I just want to be free.
I want the feeling I remember from childhood,
Standing on the bow of my grandfather’s boat
Smelling the air and feeling the spray of the waves
And not hearing anything over the wind and the roar of the engine.
That was happiness.
And back then, it never occurred to me to ask:
Can I live?
