today i watched a video from my ring camera of you smashing my potted plants. the ones you gave me.
so far this year, the only thing i’ve been is a disservice to the people around me. most days i’m too selfish to get out of bed.
thank you mother, for uprooting my life for your own convenience.
i am argumentative. i am opinionated. that does not make me loud.
i do wish i could find even a small flicker of the blazing fire that was once in me, but it has been doused in water repeatedly.
(don’t worry it’s already happening)
for once, my mind is quiet.
i’ve always been told
that 3am is some haunted hour
where your subconscious thoughts
claw their way into reality
but 4am is the true evil
it’s the unbearable silence
when the monsters in my head
stand at the edges of my vision
to watch me toss and turn
when you come home and hold me, my anger and rage is soothed, and i am not a mad woman, but i am your happy wife.
my brothers are not my blood, but they are mine. we have been through tragedy and triumph together. they have been my shoulder to cry on, and i have wiped away many of their tears myself. my soul will always be tied with theirs.
just because you are not mine, doesn’t mean i can’t wish you were.