I'm not noise, I am the boundless
All-encompassing boom
Of a detonation
And I don't give my second-thoughts room
This time.

I have no mind about me to tell you
That it's just fear
Garden variety, co-conspirator with my anxiety

But 6am and the sun has yet to rise
I'm still feeling the high
Of being what you needed in that moment
Perfectly molded
Fuck fear, fuck worries, fuck paranoia

I don't know if your brand of malicious thoughts are like mine but, here's an affirmation for you, maybe?
You are inspiring to those you reach, and your messages of compassion and humanistic approach are uplifting. You are making change, however small, for yourself and others every day.

Can I wash the coffee pot without waking my partner? (No.) Do I feel motivated or inspired to write? (Also no.) Why am I awake? (Circadian rhythm irregularities probably. Or the need to piss.)
The buzz is constant, but tonight it's just a murmuring. Like a sleep-addled friend after a party.

I didn't understand.
I dreamt that my sisters and mother became kind to me in a way that suggested some sort of condescending smugness. I ran from that too. Everything was hostile in that dream but especially my family. Woke up befuddled.

I was expected to clean it.
I didn't live there anymore.
I was exhausted and confused and went out on a drive to cool my head, only to come across my father at a garden supply store. His opening line was to blame me for the fact that his kitchen had caught fire due to issues with the stove/oven.

Half-smiles, disbelief small but persistent in its whispering.
I choose to trust
They do too
This isn't a one-way street or one-sided desire

It just takes some getting used to.

To gaslight! To breach your boundaries! To take advantage of you!
Are they?
Or are they simply who they are, responsive to my needs for affection, receptive to my requests for accommodations.
I'll have shadows lingering in my head forever, I figure.
And a knee-jerk to bring understood

Starvation and addiction aren't too dissimilar. Feeling fed is a strange, gentle rewiring.
My sensors are tripped. My synapses misfire. DANGER!
Selfishness looks like generosity! They're buying your forgiveness later!
They're buying the right to dig in with a word or miscommunicate their intention

The morning always comes
And every shadowed corner gets tangled and twisted in the broom bristles of dawn's sweeping
Appeals to the mind stopped short
Already feeling the shame of a failsafe that didn't trigger
An alarm that didn't ring
A contingency plan that did not survive first contact