Christmas is upon me yet again:
ten years have passed,the calendars pages turn month by month ,but I remain as a mere “X”  with no lateral motion each shadow a story with my permanent companions pain, anger,loss ; these are true friends
I carry the weightof a thousand whispers daily and hundreds of thousands of emotions firing in the synapsis like lightning across the Oklahoma plains

How did I grow to become this version of myself?

A prisoner, yes,but the bars are invisible, created by crass, cruel, narcissistic interventions, from thoughts of worthlessness that spiral twisting streamers around my heart, as miniature nooses waiting for that final myoclonus

Desire to not even breathe,each heartbeat contradiction

alive, yet longingfor the solace of silence,the comfort of absence,where pain takes its eternal vacation

In this season of giving,I gather fragments of my parents, my life, my brokenness and in hatred for these things being taken each piece is my oath of survival,not of joy, just trinkets of hope for a new life,beyond the pain,beyond the anger,where I might finally be loved

and not alone