outta yer head

i just wish i knew what was or wasn't normal behaviour.
i keep checking in with my boss because we aren't very busy right now and i just want him to know that it's not like i'm slacking on work i could be doing, it's a lot of hurry up and wait happening, and i just want to make sure he knows i'm not bumming off, i dunno
and he keeps just like reassuring me that it's fine and that he trusts me and that i don't have to check in, but i feel like i ought to anyway and just ugh.

sometimes i really wonder how broken i look to other people.

"when you get better."

what a loaded statement
while i am loaded up on medications
that still don't keep me full, i

try to understand that you don't mean it like that
but i have never been good at understanding,
and isn't that the problem.

"when you get better,"
and this is all i've ever been
and all i ever will be

is sorry for that.

i know it's not enough, never enough,
never, never, never,
is -

"when you get better,"

is never, never, never.

prescription

the label reads anti-psychotic
but it's just the pills,
not me.

pisces

it's a fog that rolled in
the minute my mother and father made eye contact
and it hasn't rolled out since.

my forecast never called
for anything but grey.

and so, you see,
when you try to tell me that
"it will get better,"
i try to picture the sun, i do -
but i don't know what it looks like.

summer's never coming.

i'm the february gloom.