Not Today

Not Today Life was good till the third baby then one day the hamper was Overflowing and she just stared at it and cried. Six needy hands Pawing at her non-stop and it just kept coming and she couldn’t Stop crying. So she saw a shrink who gave her a pill. “Baby Blues” He says but that pill gave her nightmares like none she’d ever seen. Her children died and crumbled through her arms as she Desperately tried to reassemble them because they weren’t really Dead because of that pill. So now it’s Bi-Polar disorder. News Happens but she doesn’t get it because now she’s on a concoction Of meds that make her mind as thick as the Häagen-Dazs that she Pounds down when no one is looking. She’s prays to God that she’ll die today. What if she cut out her Stupid friggin’ defective brain? She wonders if she can penetrate Her own skull with that kitchen knife. What a bloody mess; and Who would discover her dead body? The guys at the morgue Would make jokes about the whack-job stiff they have in the Drawer. The body bag would be cold and damp. Not today. She finally cut herself. Not deep enough at first. Then deeper with Each cut until she got thrilled and scared, and achieved enough Pain to kill the rage. Her husband helped dress the wounds with Tears in his eyes. He is a good man; kept it quiet. Hold it together, She thinks, or you’ll be in a strait jacket, alone, and with no one to scratch your nose.