sat by the ocean

a feeling of boredom

that feeling of boredom you get
when you're sitting in front of the computer
trying to solve math equations you don't want to

that feeling of boredom you get
when you're cleaning your room,
sorting everything into meaningless piles

that feeling of boredom you get
when they ask you what you want to be when you're older
and you say you don't know yet (even though the answer is hidden deep down inside)

it's how I feel about many things lately
I love my life
because I am alive,
not because it is what I want now

yes, I find peace in the little moments
playing video games to connect with people
creating worlds just so I can feel like I'm living
when,
really,
I'm still recovering from being nothing but a survivor

and recovery isn't linear,
and I understand that well,
but I want to see more progress.

I see the pentagrams in my food,
I see the numbers all around me (and wonder what they really mean)
I see my old habits dying off
I see unfamiliar parts of myself growing through the weeds
and I see my sweetheart, staring right back at me
seeing me and understanding me so completely
that I forget myself sometimes

lover,
I thank you
for your passion and your wisdom

schoolwork,
I thank you
for being a constant

family,
I thank you
for teaching me it's okay not to love you

and myself,
I thank me
for everything I'm doing to heal and help myself

even if I've lost my way.

but as the sun sets,
I come alive,
fingers feeling and tongue swiveling
as the moon beams down,
I am entranced,
with body moving and eyes widening

something inside me awakens
and she is leaking into the day
and I have shut her out
because I'm terrified I'll lose my human parts to her gnashing teeth
and beating wings
and long claws

but I give up now
I renounce myself to her
because there is something left to do

there is a switch
need I pull it myself?
it seems painfully so

I have fought a decade and over a half
to be admired and praised for what I am
to be loved as I am
to be appreciated and recognized by the lands

I have perfected the art of perfection
and even tried making my flaws perfect
and I have proven time and time again
that I am smarter and stronger and faster and better
than anything they'll ever see again
and yet,
they still do not love me

they do not adore me
they pay me no mind
and complain when I ask timidly for their patience.

but now,
as my gardens regrow,
I am confused and lost and hopelessly, terribly uncomfortable.