Tag: inner monologue

Some nights
I think my mind
is trying to kill me
without actually doing anything.

Nothing is wrong.
That is the problem.

The house is quiet.
The dishes are clean.
The lamp is on.

I am sitting here
making up explanations
because no one gave me one.

I keep going back
over everything
like there is a sentence I missed.

A look.
A word.
Something that would explain
how something could feel so real
and then suddenly
feel like it never happened.

I do this to myself.
I know I do.

I take what I do not know
and turn it
into evidence against me.

I put myself on trial.

I become the witness,
the judge,
the woman being punished.

And still,
some part of me
keeps insisting
there was something there.

That I did not invent it.
That I was not alone inside it.

Tonight,
I do not need an answer.

I just need
to stop making myself
the reason
I was left without one.