Constantly Dying

I keep thinking
It’s all gonna
Finally be okay.
That I’ll forget
Those dark hours
In the middle
Of my days.


I keep hoping
I’ll finally sleep
All through
The night.
Oh, the things
I could do
If I could sleep
Through one night.

I keep wanting
Mom to stop crying,
Dad to start trying…
And To feel,
All the while,
Like I am not
Constantly dying.

Dying from everything
Living in in me.

Can’t do this,
No more…
Can’t be anything
In this life,
Except
Through.

I love you all.
Even Dad.
Especially Dad.
Tell the girls
To do better
Than me.

Life’s too short
To live it
In hell.
But too long
To be in agony.

Don’t forget me,
Don’t miss me.

 

The Hoard

It seems that publishing a Weekly Hoard is next to impossible for me…at least for more than three weeks in a row. Sigh. This seems to be a pattern in my writing world; leaps and bounds mingled with stops and starts. I’m going to go with The Hoard from now on; just a collection of stuff from time to time. It was never meant to be that serious anyway. Enjoy and share.

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Click to read five tips for cleaning up your writing.
Click to read five tips for cleaning up your writing.

writer

crying

Perfecting the grilled burger. (click for tips)
Perfecting the grilled burger. (click for tips)

hero

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