somedays, i will implode on myself. i will quietly shut down, no tears, no shouts, no alarms. i will be too cold, too distant—untouchable and unreachable. don’t panic. somedays, i will implode on myself. it won’t be your fault. let me recover, softly and slowly. hold me when i remember how to feel again.
somedays, i will be reckless. i will be wild and unstoppable. i will jump off cliffs and taste like cigarettes and smell like booze. i will forget you and i will forget me and i will smile. i will smile, until it hurts and i will cry because it won’t be enough. somedays, i will be reckless. it won’t be your fault. wait until i am sober before you berate me, but know that it won’t be the last time.
somedays, i will explode on you. suddenly, suddenly and all at once, i will yell and rage and hate. i will tear you apart with my words and i will not stop, even when you cry. know that i am sorry. it won’t be your fault. i could never hate you. all those words are meant for me, not you. let me remind you that you are too good for me. somedays, i will explode on you. let me apologize.
somedays, i will be gentle. i will take you to museums and coffee shops and the world will feel bright and whole. i will make eggs and toast and dance in the kitchen with you. i will tell you about my favorite memories and you will think this is, this is how it is meant to be. it will end. it won’t be your fault. somedays, i will be gentle. remember that i am not always whole, remember the good comes with the bad.
most days, i will be hard to love. it won’t be your fault. i will not blame you when you leave.