Gripped by the destructive pain of loss on the daily, I am all but destroyed before I begin. Each day is a struggle to wake and to not fall apart.
This has become the norm. I call it the mid morning rush. It is 3:35am and its dark and most are sleeping. I am awake recalling sweet memories of children so delightful and warm and then from left field comes the imaginary bulldozer to knock it all apart. Tears well in my eyes. I struggle to breathe. I get angry and sad all at once. I sit in the dark and drink coffee and smoke a cigarette by the fire and stare into the flames, thinking, twisting my hair for comfort and focus.
Torn in two inside. Torn between feelings of disappearing and finding a tree and feelings of emptiness left by the reams of injustice. I am completely lost how to deal with this emotionally. I keep trying each day. Every new dawn is another opportunity for hope. Hope is all I have. I get very scared a day will arrive and there is no more hope.
Images @ Eminpee Fotography