The mtn number you’ve dialled

Feels too vulnerable to talk to you right now

She knows you’re trying to help, but she really doesn’t need it

Please try again later

Or dial *505#

To listen to a pre-recorded message.

Hold on a minute

Please, give me a second to recollect myself

I need a moment to collect my tears

— I mean thoughts,

Just give me some time to pull myself together.

I’ve written about all this before

I’ve definitely been there, I’ve definitely done that

You’d usually advise me to convert my pain

To transform it, meta morph it into something amazing

But dear Abby, dear lovely unpaid, untrained therapist of mine

My heart has been broken so hard tonight that I fear it might flood through my eyes.

I couldn’t call you, because I wasn’t alone

When the dam I had built, came crashing down

I fear that if I hear your voice, I wouldn’t be able to withstand

The urge to crawl into a ball and cry it all out.

I was just thinking about the argument mother and I had this morning

And it made me realize the exact depth of my suffering.

Abbey, I haven’t been happy in a really long time

I’ve been using words and poetry

Work, relationships, chores and even global warming

To distract myself from the truth that is

I don’t really know what I’m doing.

I just want to be left alone

But at the same time, I want to be found

I’m surrounded by people who care way too much

But I don’t feel safe about confiding in them

The people I love, the people I trust,

The people I’m close to, I know they won’t judge

But I cannot afford to be yet another weight on their shoulders

Hysterical, dramatic, emotional, many have called me

I think it’s time I started keeping things to myself.

Like I said before Abbey, there’s no point in writing about this

I’m only leaving this message for you because I know you’ve been so persistent

“Are you fine?”

“Are you sure you’re alight?”

Your ever constant questions were a light in the dark

So, I want to tell you the truth now,

I want to tell you that I’m not fine

I want to tell you how very not fine I am.

Dear Abbey, if this were a poem

And I were to submit it to a client,

They’d tell me that it lacked punctuations, proper grammar,

Too much showing, not enough telling

They’d trash it for me. Tear it to pieces

And I’ve gotten to that point where I really don’t mind.

Abbey,

Screw the world

They can really go to wherever they want to

I’m okay because even if the entire world is against me

I have you,

And that my dear friend, is more than enough for me.