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Writer's pictureSarah Lynch

I Fucked Up

Backsliding is my new hobby

You get out of a shitty situation

A toxic friendship

An abusive relationship

And you feel so good

So empowered

And then after a while

You get bored

Or tired

Or sad

And you're back in it again

The same people

The same old thing

On repeat like a broken record

I'm scratched and water damaged

And going in this stupid circle

And the needle skips backwards every time

Back into the familiar pain

It feels more normal than feeling fine

I'd rather be used that loved

Because it's what I'm used to

My track record is pretty terrible

But I crave familiarity

I crave attention

Even if it's hatred

Even if it's obsession

Annoyance and malicious intent

Posessiveness

Ownership

The sleeve is ripped

The car door slammed

Broken fingers

Bent notes

Skipping backwards

Looping forever

And eventually I'll get knocked on track

At least I hope I will

But when?

And who will care?

Who will notice me when I'm doing ok?

If I'm not in crisis nobody will care if I'm alive or dead

Because there's nothing interesting left in the broken shell

It all poured out

From the tears in my soul

Let me black out and tell you how I feel

And pretend it didn't happen in the morning

One day you'll look back and wonder why

You never said anything

I never said anything

But I didn't want to fuck it up

More than I already have

I fucked up

Again

And again

And again

I don't want you to be one of those

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