I don't like peas

I suppose,

The moment I realized I wasn’t a kid anymore,

Went a little something like:

“you cant call out of work just because you’re sad”

My face planted firmly in a pillow,

Depression swarming around me as if I just knocked down a beehive except the beehive is actually just my head

I can’t even call into work and say “I’m sick”

Because I’m sick every day of the week

I mean sure, 

I guess I could lie and say 

“oh sorry I got food poisoning from the food I didn’t even eat because I was too sad to go through the effort of chewing” 

Sure. 

But what about tomorrow

And the next day

And the next day

So

I press a bag of frozen peas to my eyes

I don’t like peas

Like… really don’t like peas 

But I’m an adult and cant say that 

Because these peas are erasing the shadows of last night from under my eyes. 

So.. yay peas. 

You know

Once a boyfriend asked me

If you can go to school

And go to work

Why don’t you want to go anywhere today

Or

Why aren’t you replying to me

I said

I compartmentalize like a plate that keeps the peas separate from the food you actually like

School and Work are just tasks 

School and work are like peas

You are the food I actually like

Like a 6 year old shoving peas down her throat so that she can eat dessert

Except, by the time you finish the peas you don’t have an appetite. 

You are not a task I said

I just don’t have an appetite for anything except my bed 

The bed I spent an hour tearing myself from so that I wouldn’t fail communications

I had to give myself a pep talk 

“come on just three steps”

Sounds a little bit like 

“come on just three more bites”

I still hate peas

 

I suppose

The moment I realized I wasn’t a kid anymore 

Was the moment I realized I still had to eat my peas

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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