Six years ago my nightmares were derived from sounds of bones breaking And the slamming doors of daddy leaving Sometimes I don't recognize my reflection in windows Am I the glass or am I beyond the glass?
I've been reborn into this world I created of revolving doors and half empty glasses Maybe this is how growing up feels But you'd think my mother would have warned me about the blanket of darkness surrounding us even when this unrelenting Florida sun is out in full force
When I wake up, I often feel like a china doll Porcelain and pretty to look at, too fragile to touch Sitting inches from the edge of the bed gazing down towards my demise
It always takes a good hour of hitting the snooze button for me to realize I'm still alive and the cocktail of benzos and wine from the night before haven't sent me into a colorless limbo
Today is a new day but I am still faced with decade old demons Still in search of some sense of self