Black

I wish I could say something different here. Something joyful, something profound. But I can't.

I've been writing alot the past few hours. It is always hard, but tonight it has been like an exorcism. Memories flood me. Hurt presses in from all sides. I need more than what I have. I need to be lifted up.

God is not listening. He is silent.

The past few nights I have dreamed of my mother. She arrives in a black dress, she stands by my bed. She says nothing, but the look on her face says it all. She is worried.

If you can worry the dead you know you are in deep shit.

God, I don't know what to do. I don't know what to say. I keep going through the motions of my life, but I am stuck on neutral here. I am stuck. I don't even know what I need, or what will make me feel better.

Right now I would settle for just feeling different.

Black black black. Black words that I type, black words in my heart. Black thoughts, black sky outside my windows.

My life is good. I have a great husband, daughter. I have enough money. I have a roof over my head. I have clothes, a car, jewelry. I have love.

But my family is totally messed up. And this colors everything.

I watch my daughter play while I think of my father.

I listen to my husband while an endless loop of the last words I spoke to my father play out in my mind.

I write blackness, spew it from a part of myself I cannot believe exists.

I cry, laugh, and cry some more.

I live in my body and also in my head. I cannot escape my thoughts.

I am drowning here, and nobody hears me screaming.