Tuesday, April 26, 2011


She stands in the door frame of my bedroom. She is talking but I'm not listening. I can only hear the termites in the frame she's standing in. I see little bits of dust float down in the tranquil sunlight.

She approaches my bed and now she's screaming at me. She's screaming at me about something and I just pretend that can't understand her. I look past her. She can't hurt me. She can't hurt me.

But then she grabs me by the hair and she yanks me back into reality. Pain surges into my skull and I can't help notice her empty eyes staring into me. I try to push her away. She pushes me into the bed and she's screaming at me more. I'm crying.

I can't help but think of my karaoke radio being smashed to pieces.

She lets me go and she stomps out of the room. She tells me to pack up my stuff, that I'm leaving. That I have to go. I begin to pack my stuff. An hour later she tells me I'm not going anywhere, like she always does. I put my stuff back.

I sit in the corner against the radiator. I cry. I look in the mirror against the dresser. I see Grey inside of the mirror. I wonder why I even bothered taking the medications in the first place.

He's smiling. He's holding his arm out to me from inside of the mirror. I reach out and try to grab his hand but he's but a weak ghost- the medication is still in my system. I can't go with him yet.

Are you happy, mom? Is this what you want?

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