Scattered across the floor,
I see my life laid out in front of me.
Detailed pieces of my life,
Highlighted in yellow,
Red, purple, and green.

Sorted into lessons,
Triumphs, losses, and utter despair.
But something is missing.
Something's not there.

Laid before my eyes.
A lifetime of living,
With happiness missing.
There is no highlighting in pink.
No moment not ruined,
By loss or lesson.

My daughter's birth,
Ruined by a mother who,
Showed up to the labor room,
So drunk standing wasn't an option.

And now even in moments,
Of greatness.
My "happiness" is missing.
As if it never existed in my world.

A tattered and torn world.
Covered in Ash and debri.
Who created this world?
Was it really me.

My anxities and depression.
My agoraphobia and OCD.
Creating a world.
That isn't quite right for me.

Scattered across the floor.
Laid out in front of me.
Are highlighted moments,
In a world built to destroy me.