The kind of friends that steal flowers from another grave to leave on yours.

Phase 2. I've finally reached phase 2 and I have never wanted to have to face it yet. Dreaded the day even. Detached. It was a blue print in a master plan I thought would be cool to have but now it has been put into action. I thought I would be more excited than I am for this. I feel like this is a video game and I've leveled up but I'm sitting here thinking "what the fuck" in my new environment, facing the same enemies who have grown stronger, wondering if I have as well... but each tear and bruise making me doubt it. My hit points and health meter are down to a dangerously low level. Recovering feels more like a year long rehab than a simple power up around the corner. There's a reset button in my head and someone found out where and pressed it while pushing all my other buttons. Blinking and napping have never felt like such a restart as this suddenly has, but this one will probably be wasted as well. Make promises to see how creatively they can be broken. Sitting outside I feel a million miles out of my own skin, staring up at birds that probably are as frustrated at the lack of direction in their escape routes as I am. The frustration brings me to tears if I let it. But I swear to God it feels like I haven't blinked in an hour. I can't hear my own thoughts over the beating of my heart. Maybe it is a defense mechanism. Can you still see the beauty in a dying flower? Has it died with you? The whole field has turned to wilting gold. It smells like tomorrow being filtered through yesterday. The air is thick and warm, it feels as if it's been breathed in and out until it doesn't make sense anymore. Shelved out. Every buried doubt reaching up from the ground and pulling at my ankles with skeletal fingers. Resurfacing behind my back. Making sure I haven't forgotten I don't belong where I want to be. Or anywhere.

I blame myself for everything, still taking all the blame doesn't fill this emptiness.

Replaced. Shipped. How I feel no longer matters, and the only time my feelings were paid attention to were long enough to make sure I knew how little I mean to you. Got it (or technically, don't). I shut off the part of me that feels anything. What I could never do to you. You think I would learn by how easily it has been done to me over and over, but I will never understand how to restock someone who means something to me. How long have you had this replacement waiting? When the new me breaks down or isn't as colorful as what you expected me to be, maybe I will be here.

Attachmeant. This is NOT what you do to me but what I let you do to me.

And honestly, I am destroyed. Nothing but now complex mechanics that are in temporary or permanent disarray. I lost a part of me, and I don't think I want that part back.

Happy now?