I want to remember this forever;
Reach out to those that can provide that same support you give, sister. You deserve that.
I am empty, well, full of toxic bullshit, but drained… I can’t imagine one more painful moment.
The vice grip tightens.
You yell at me, spitting your disgust that I am not “just doing something about it”, while you yank my choke chain because I am not doing what you want.
My thoughts, incoherent, are splattered against the wall of my mind.
I long to write and yet i can’t find the time… time that gets away, time that creates the day.
I turn and languish for the words yet i never create a spot to sit or a space to breathe, i never find the time to create.
time has become my foe something i feel i must fight for.
what if i could relax and take the day as it came…
so much unfinished business
Dark again. It’s like the night that never ends. I wake up and think morning is near but it’s only an hour since last time.
But this isn’t night, it’s my life. I realized today I am having a hard time feeling good because I am tired and I don’t want to do it another’s way any more. I’d like a say in my choices
I’d like to be offered help without waiting for the retribution invoice. I’d like my things where I left them.
Pillows are sacred. Safe. I only use my pillow or none. Why do u think I have toted that damn thing across the nation on buses and planes and cars for my whole life.
People don’t respect others unique oddness. Who cares if I cherish the sanctity of my pillow. It’s important to me.
You are incapable of caring.
I always forget and forgive. My soul is full of your stab wounds.