You tell me this as if I don't already know
As if I don't go to therapy weekly to try and sort out my ****
As if i'm not a new mom completely drowning in postpartum depression behind closed doors
You think I don't know i'm angry?
I'm livid.
I have trauma I have to sort through daily
I have a baby that cries and cries,
but when her father walks through the door, she smiles
Did I see her smile today?
Maybe. But I am so ******* angry I forgot.
And heaven forbid, me, a mother, say such verbiage like "*******" in regards to my child and her endless agony
Because yeah, I am *******.
But do I love my daughter more than life itself?
Yes.
And we will continue to cry together, mother and baby, exhausting ourselves into slumber with tears streaming down our cheeks
While the man, the father, (the savior if you will)
Defeats me
over and over and over
again

Dunkin donuts wrappers in bed
Wine stained coffee mugs
Coffee stained coffee mugs
So many ******* mugs and cups it was hard to keep track of the one i was using
Piles and piles of clothes & junk on the floor
A guitar
A tiny amp
A window covered lazily with a dark blanket
to keep the sun out
Another window partially cracked at all times to remind us theres still a world out there, we're just choosing to live it inside your bedroom wasted and cracked out on adderall
The bag I lived out of, with a wonderful selection of like 2 outfits
The box of wine always sitting on a nearby surface
The box of wine constantly being replaced by another one
The always missing vape
The hair all over the bathroom sink I desperately wanted to clean but didnt have a single ounce of motivation or care in the world to actually do it
Chickens
Fish tank
Cats leaping in and out the window
A little polaroid of us I snuck on the wall, to make it more "home-y"
Our halloween costumes on the floor (a collection of last minute thrift store finds to complete a royal tenenbaums couples costume which we totally killed)
Walls filled with late night conversation
But most of all,
A room with two sad people
that somehow made each other
happy

like summer to fall,
our romance went
from vibrant greens and dripping sweat,
to fallen leaves and cigarettes
our romance went

Anytime i've had a little wine, and i'm feeling as if the world is against me, certain memories like to flood my brain.

One time I almost told you I loved you
because I knew you wanted to hear it.
and another time I let you put your tongue down my throat,
because I knew you wanted to do that, too.
Who was I to say no?
You were nice. You let me pick all the records out.
You bought all the wine. You let me talk and complain, and talk and complain.
So who was I to say no?
Want another ***** cranberry?
yes
Want to take this hydrocodone?
sure
My friend is in town and has real good coke!
ok lets do it

Motels. Boxed wine. Cigarettes. Pills.
(my love language apparently)
I can still see myself wandering the narrow halls of a highway budget motel, looking for an escape, but knowing there wasn't one.
You were passed out on the bed, exhausted from a night of drugs and drunk ***. (Oh, you poor, tireless thing!)
You looked dead almost. Dead but pleased. It pleased me to think maybe you were dead. Then I realized that would be a complete **** situation.
I sat there and poured a glass of wine and stared at you. (by glass of wine, I mean cup of wine. The thin plastic mouthwash cups that come with the motel room)
Nope, not dead. So I took the hotel key and snuck out with the plan of not returning, as if I could actually get away with it.

I found myself at the motel pool. I lit up the last cigarette and sat there.
I think my soul left my body as
I listened to the cars zoom by on the highway. The freedom they had. They were going home to their loved ones. Or, at least they weren't stranded at a 1 star motel with a master manipulator.
I sat there,
wrapped in the invisible chains of lies and regret.
Just sat there. Soul-less.
And then it dawned on me..
I can't leave. I can't make this grand escape I had planned in my head.
So out went the cigarette,
and out went the light in our motel room.
As I crawled into bed,
You were snoring and
the sun was about to come up.
I had never wanted a sunrise more in my life.
And you just laid there and snored, as I lied there wishing I had more drugs to put me out of my misery

new anxiety
new fears
new irrational thinking
new negative thoughts
new things that i'll probably never do
and new things I wont want to do
new disappointments
new lows
new breaking points
new year
but not so new me

I have these dreams I'm losing
all my teeth
Feet are stuck in sludge
fingers caressing me

Love & feeling
the latter is killing me
I know you think it's me,
but I ain't no prize
worth
possessing