It’s hard isn’t it. Watching all these people pass in & out of the hospital. & as I sit here, outside in the dark alone, mascara staining my ciggarette filter, I try to think of why I feel the way I do. Is it possible for me not to feel this way? Is there a way out? The endless to & froing of balloons & gifts congratulated new life being brought into the world. The labored mothers squatting in pain & lunging towards the hospital. The new mummies being pushed in their wheelchairs, baby in arms, flushed red in the face & glowing with fathers swooning. & I can’t help but think; why didn’t I get that? What makes them better than me? Why did I have to walk into the hospital, my body ripped with pain a tummy full of baby & then leave with empty arms. Why didn’t I get to swoon & be a new mum & have people visit me & my baby & bring me flowers & ooh & aah over how beautiful my baby is? Why was that so fucking hard? & I stare at the stars my cheeks streaked with tears asking, BEGGING, why? What did I do to deserve that pain that grief that tragedy? I get no answer but a new born baby crying on his way to his car seat in his car to his new home. Maybe I wasn’t woman enough, mother enough, human enough to deserve that right. But I know everything is wrong. It’s wrong wrong wrong. & I want out.
I found the one. & no it may not seem real but it is. It’s so real I can touch it. & I couldn’t wish for a love this perfect.
If tomorrow exists for the optimistic where does that leave the children who were born into a dark place? When do they begin to feel the warmth & understand what colors feel like?
I was in bed & I was thinking about all the bad things that are coming to get me & I put on your black singlet that smells like you & I crawled back into bed & got right under all my blankets & I thought about the first time you told me you loved me & my world got a little brighter & I smiled.
I’m struggling. I feel my mind decomposing through the absence of happiness. I can feel that drug I took months ago still eating away at my brain. I wish I said no. I wish I somehow could have stopped myself from dropping that zig zag paper powder filled baggie into my mouth & swallowing my sanity with it. But there’s no going back now. It feels like my mind has swollen & is unable to process things I used to do absent - mindedly on the daily. I wish someone out there could fix this mental state I put upon myself. The world is too big, everyone I meet is too large. When I am unable to process anything I shut myself in my room & watch the candles melt for hours. & hours. I can’t remember the last time I had a drink. Paranoia fills my being. I can’t remember what it was like to be fucked up. & I miss it. Going from speed filled weekends driven & supported by crack - smoking 40 ounce chugging music banging benders to not being able to even look through tumblr incase something trips me out to much & I have an episode is my life now. I’m unsure whether I can keep doing this. Who am I?