A Conversation with A Robot, or an amalgamation of ghosts; something you can actually do in the future, or the present
-Here is a devastating poem. Analyze it. Be my worst critic.
“Oh well, my dear, Its too emotional. Instead of escalation, everything stays at maximum intensity, so the reader stops feeling the peaks.”
-HahhahahHahahHahHhaha. (You hurt my feelings!) well yeah duh!!!! Thats my whole life!!!!!!!!!!!! Everyones so tired of me being on 10!!!!! Everyone!!! It’s so fucking pathetic. I’m in so much pain, I’m dying over here. Whether they love me deeply or they dont fucking know my name, they all treat me exactly the same. They furrow their brows and smile a bit and say some empty fucking platitude about pain and letting go or moving on or self care regimens. No one looks in my eyes! They recoil from my pain and all i am is nothing but it, I am truly insane.
“Oh well, my dear, you must know, everyone is uncomfortable by sustained extremes”
-BUT I WAS NOT ALLOWED TO BE!!!!!!!!!!!. Anyone. Everyone. They all had or have or have had more emotions more outbursts more anger than i ever will have. More chaos. More determination. They paraded around themselves and exhausted me and now i have nothing. Yet somehow i am the tiring one because I am devastated and angry that my body has been stolen from me.
“Oh well, my dear, youre pitting them against yourself, you cannot see their pain”
-But I can see. I can see the disgrace and the disease and discomfort and disappointment in their face. I can see it i really can. And i love them. I want them. And I have never and will never ever feel their love back sustainably. And im so fucking sick for it, I think that’s what’s really killing me.
“Your perception is apt but you are also hurt.”
Yes,
I whisper, exiting the window to let shame blow in a little quicker.
A Conversation with An Apple, a very possible thing to do
I am not hungry but I am lonely. Would you like some company? Youve been sitting here all day in the same exact spot. Dont you know you should move? Are you happy? Like this?
“Sure, thank you. I appreciate the gesture. But no, I am not happy, have you seen my likeness? I am bruised and my color is lifeless. Surely you can imagine what were my soft round edges, my redness, address this. Surely you can imagine the crispness and texture at my core. If you can guarantee you won’t hurt me, yes please, please keep me company.”
“Well, fine, my friend, I see how it is.
You disgusting. Thinking you are so special. I Will take a bite, only for you, to show you just how mediocre you are. Your company, my sweet, was charity, no more. Nothing is better than being wanted, you said it yourself, didn’t you(me)?”
A Conversation with endometriosis, who is even more possible to talk to than an apple.
Hello. What the fuck. Surely you have seen the damage you have done. Not just me, but everyone. But also specifically, specially, special little me. Don’t roll your eyes, don’t look away. Are you proud of yourself, do you have anything to say?
Not really, my dear. But I’ll give you this: I am nothing but tissue, attaching to your issues, embrace your pain and maybe they will miss you.
But I can’t do this anymore, you’re taking everything away. I know tomorrow could be easier, but that means you’ll take the next day away. I’m tired of this cycle and I’m tired of the pain.
Can you stop your whining, I’m trying to grow. You’re being more of a pain than I could ever be. Just get up, take a shower, breathe.
endoreality 
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