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You were my inspiration. You kept me motivated. You gave me a reason for no other reason, definitely no good reason. You had me believing, in I should be believing, my self, some more. As if I didn’t already know my worth. In some “wake up and smell the” coffee grind; didn't need to feel the bitterness to know the message. I’m awake. You’re so boring. You’re annoying. I wish you went away, but before you go please tell me:

Where the fuck is the attachment thing to my vacuum? 

It’s been driving me nuts. So who cares, I don’t anymore. This doesn’t matter, I’ve moved on.  It’s just stuff. Not yours; I’m not for sale, you window shopped and passed. You had no shame passing gas, you had no shame sticking a needle in my vein, all because you don’t know yourself, I hope you figure that all out.

Your mom, I’m sorry she relapsed, but I’m not the reason why you’re born. You made me feel lower than the gutter who's odor my wretched foulness of existence was born, as a product of rape. You’re just another person who got to throw me in the trash without even taking a sip of the soda within. I’m just a big advertisement for all the things right, that you got wrong in me. Empty calories. Sweating, alone. 

Alone. 

Speaking softly in your ear, and you heard the demons in your head instead and left. We had a second where you could have made this what it should have been, but you’re too sad in your own sorrows of stars, and moons, and the mercury retrograde of life's reflections and how everyone wasn’t there for you when you fell off the roof. Those scars, the metal. I couldn’t begin to imagine what it takes to make you feel, at least what's real.

“You’re one of those people who keeps putting it in my face!” Stop talking about yourself, I was just suggesting we leave this pity party together and laugh quietly so nobody noticed, because we didn’t need to fake it anymore, that we were grander than people made us out to be. We found our match. Just to be disappointed with ourselves and eachother. How appropriate we self sabotage our moment... 

...Lord knows, he’s heard how much I hated myself. But words matter. Those days are gone, and I’m not some kid hoping for the impossible. I live in the here and now, surroundings like succulents, clinging on to whatever dirt I land, and this time I fell for you with no parachute. Face scarred, forgotten thoughts, how pretty you looked when you wore no makeup. Shoot...

Enough about we. That’s so, yesterday. Back to the motivation behind this piece, as if you heard me stutter when I said “I’m an artist.” Back to you. All praise the most high: for giving me you, to remind me how pathetic I could be – bringing flowers to a rage-fest about proving a point with a youtube video on your iPhone in the passenger side of his Nissan Altima, type shit. I bet you forgot; until I read this I did too.

God you suck for putting that energy next to mine. All praise to the most high, for letting me out that nose dive, still alive. You’re supposed to be a healer. Why was I shamed for not getting into my feelings about what you might mean when you’re not medicated? When you’re not seeing red? Do you even remember the evil things you’ve said? And you’re supposed to be sober. The strong one, the one who nobody will take seriously because you have all the answers. Hey dip shit, I hit the subscribe, like and follow buttons to your what could’ve been exit from a sushi place in the middle of nowhere, all so you can remind me you come from a pedigree of people with ponies growing up. I hear you, your ta-ta, eat cookies, thanks for the stories, I wish I could have heard more about her glory. If you gave a fuck about anyone but yourself, you would have told me. 

I was listening.

I heard you.

I’m sorry.

Please forgive me.

More importantly, please forgive yourself, and take it easy on Darcy. Deep down, underneath it all I really care about her. I’ll always be a fan, like a hawk, fading away in the sunny skies you pretended to re-meet me when I told you I was down, gut hit by the ghosts of your past. I said it smelled like urine that day where you were standing, but you weren’t taking the hint.

If I’ve still got your attention. I wish I could have sent more flowers, chocolates, or a magic mushroom to make this all not be what it is. 

"Words matter."

I knew I knew you from some other place. We’ve met before, I don’t know where. Let me think? Let me think. 

I’m listening, but let me think.

I’M LISTENING. 

Where have we met before? I don’t know... 

Regardless, let’s address that ugly little scar you’re carrying around: that anger. It’s mean. Be careful who you piss off. Stop pissing in the well, no I don't like your urine. Maybe you’ll have mercy the next lifetime you have my attention, because I couldn't help but help all the creatures before me who needed it. Whatever makes you sleep at night... Inviting everyone to the party like the car wash boy, I hope you can dig into his kinks and figure that knot out. Sticky, sticky. You cheated on me for a free oil change. Ew. Gross...

“What do you mean you’re an artist?” Like I’ve just gone lost it. My canvas was me and all my tapestries. Succulents, dollars bills, you rolled on me like I didn't give you money. You bet I wouldn’t notice you either threw out the vacuum piece, or misplaced it just to get a reaction. Or did you just forget what you did, like put it in my face so many times we weren’t anything, and that I was missing the positivity you exuded from every pore of your promising existence? Thanks for ruining Ren + Stimpy and all those sleepless nights. Thanks for the mania you orchestrated in symphony called your twisted head. Thanks for making me last in line for having a shot at making you smile like you ever could again. 

You had me fooled. Are you listening? Stop fooling yourself.

I’m not listening anymore. You’re not nice and don’t lead by example. I’m not waiting for you to notice me. You never will, and even if you did, you pushed me away into the corner I’m too familiar with: that place where I tremble with fear because no matter what good I do, I’m put down, ignored, abused, neglected and worst of all – not reciprocated with the endless bounty of love my heart bleeds for everyone including you.

I’m not hoping for that let's wait and see moment.  I see my wings healed, the cage open, and I’m flying away with no regrets. You hurt my heart, definitely don’t care, you must be annoyed and will tear this three page letter, or better yet: return it to me like a post it with my phone number on it as if the moment we met was something disposable, and you want a refund. Quit rocking the boat just to prove age is something of a number.

Pardon me as I reclaim my heart. Get out of the way, I’m going where I belong: with creatures that care, places not shared, a mother who’s fair, a brother who brings people back from the dead because he's the man, he's there. My sadness doesn’t define me, it’s just an agar plate for a colony of hope to grow in every direction. A path of solidarity you were once invited to walk along side with me. A road to recovery God put us on together. A trail you abandoned for those silly voices in your head telling you should be alone. Now it’s your turn to grow. And I won’t be looking sad or scared, because you always wanted this and a queen gets what she asks for. 

Goodbye Darcy, you made me feel.

Goodbye Darcy, you had my heart.

Goodbye Darcy, you fell apart.

Goodbye Darcy, you failed the part.

Goodbye Darcy, I was real.

Goodbye Darcy, you left a mark.

Goodbye Darcy, chemical peel.

Goodbye Darcy,

xo, David <3