Toner is chemically changing the color of my hair
I try to respond to the voicemail with instructions for my daughters upcoming biopsy
I await a response from my professor to give me a fucking break and grant me a one day extension
I have to find a scanner I can use that will be available once I’m done here
Responding to my sons texts, he feels guilty he can’t be at the hospital this weekend because he has so much school work to do
I’m busy, getting shit done…multitasking at its finest.
The bastard tears seep out of me. I didn’t call upon them. I’m not even thinking of them. There they go. I’m the crazy lady that can’t stop crying.
words to describe my supervisor:
Leaves me feeling:
You allow the sociopath you work for to dominate you’re sad life, that does not give you the right to project your bull-shit on me!! Just because your job is the only thing you have in your life does not mean you should be completely inidffrernt to the needs of a student, with a job, and a family…you fucking clueless bitch. I hate working for you and I cannot wait to get as far away as possible from you so you can stop poisoning me with your anxiety and micro-aggressive passive aggressiveness. I am tired of your phoney-ass courteousness and I pray you never half-heartedly ask me how I am doing again because I know you do not give a SINGLE FUCK and it is evident in your fake ass smile and the shoulder shrug that comes when you are ready to move on to your own agenda. I have no one to call and I want to cry and bash this computer screen with the very keyboard I am typing on. You make me sick, mentally. I cannot put up with your fucked up shittiness anymore! Too bad the tornado did not rip this building down.
At 3:16 pm I mentioned his name
About the Xbox and watching that show,
with his sister
3/16 is his birthday
It’s 3:17 pm now
It’s her birthday
My St Pattys day baby
the twin souls
Of a Gemini mom
Born five years and a day apart
Did I like it or did I fight you on that too?
I’ll never know.
It’s my own damn fault right?
Why keep being so excessive?
Pain from the injury to the inside of my lip where my teeth cut deep into my flesh is a constant reminder of my indulgences.
Is it his fault at all?
He was drunk too.
I’ll never know. I can’t remember shit.
I know, however, that I am responsible for me
Nobody else will protect me as best as I can protect myself and I need to start there
The spell wore off
romance can’t compete with cramps
They scrutinize my insides wringing me dry
Waking from my daze the wonderment is prevalent
Again, feelings of betrayal creep back in
Blasting beats to overcome the thumps from within
My heart, my veins, my eyes swell and heave
I bury the emotions to save face
Keep adding the checks next to my lists
This waiting by for you won’t last
I can’t continue to be so obtuse
Fear wearing off to face change and explain
The phoney naïveté my life has been
confrontation, depending on who it is may not be as easy as it seems
I can confront friends about bad relationships and call them out on their shit
I can phrase challenges and discrepancies to my clients
I can’t confront my husband about the mysterious “I miss you” text from an unsaved number he got though
Now it’s affecting everything
Every time he looks at me I wonder if he’s thinking of more lies
Every time he shows me affection I wonder if he’s just trying to “throw me off”
I doubt every story he tells and every intention he’s had for the past forty eight hours
since I saw the words ” I miss you” light up on the fuckin I-watch I bought him
the unsaved NY 917 number brings back the vision of the picture of the woman in her underwear that was saved on the hard drive among our children’s Holiday band concerts
I am spiraling down
to a dark place again
Isolating in irritation and contemplation
uncalled for bad moods and shitty attitude’s are spewing out of me
can’t talk to anyone because he’s a prince in all their eyes and I can never dethrone him
I have too much respect for him
but does he respect me?
Is he lying to me? Is he cheating? Would he ever tell me the truth if he was?
The fifteen year old pregnant girl could not look into the future to see
A good marriage
A beautiful home
Smart and able children
All she could think about was how she was going to finish high school and go to college?
She wondered if what she had with her boyfriend was love or obligation?
She imagined a life in the hustle of NYC
She couldn’t see the future
She saw the looks, read the statistics, and disappointed her loved ones back then.
I want to travel back in time to tell her she’s on the right path
To encourage her on those dark days
To let her know in twenty years, it’s all okay
We are happy, healthy, and love one another with the utmost loyalty, fortitude, & humility
Somehow I always manage to cycle around to these doubts and feelings
In a marriage there always seems to be
Needs and desires that go unmet
Guessing at the right way to convey
Unlikely to find the right setting or time
Longing in the process to just blurt out the words
Achingly I distance myself, going against the urge
Re-evaluating how I love, perhaps I give too much
Deeming that I deserve more protection, trust, and love
Unmet, is the sensation left again
Another year to weigh in, the writings tell the truth
Love isn’t always enough
Importance of loyalty is the message coming through
Thoughtfully I plan the next steps to take, as I consider my life and how it’s all about
The kind of day that’s split and off kilter
My morning broken down at home, where all I did was work.
To school I go to work.
The homicidal and suicidal words spoken by the youth I hear impresses upon me in an eternal way.
Anger, pain, anxiousness, and sadness are handed to me in pieces as I attempt to help the babies put their puzzles back together
There’s a sick kid I must lay my own eyes, hands, and voice upon at home.
I need emotional support that I feel none of them are strong enough to give.
Off I go to be a master.
I cry in the car when suddenly, there’s a Jeep Wrangler blazing in flames on the side of the road.
The universe placed me in Group Counseling class this night and I shared that there was no material thing I’d run back in the burning house for.
And upon my return home, my two answered the same.
They tell on me.
They show my heart.
I lie. I lie with my mouth and curve the corners of it in an upwards direction like they like to see.
I use the words they want to hear for reassurance.
But those tears, they tell on me every time.