| you sit in the living room, asleep most of the day. other times, open mouthed and staring off. the dogs huddle near you, worried that you're hurting. in pain. they know you're suffering, but they don't know why. you delude yourself, addicted to being sick. you eat your pills, ask for more for when it's not enough. or you go and ask for something different, stronger. you let your demons devour you whole. in turn, your head is gone. you are shrouded in misery. discontent with everything that doesn't go your way. i don't know who you are. you're not a mother. |