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Nine Months Ago Part 2
It's only 2:00 am.
I even waited to take the drugs
till midnight,
so I wouldn't have to fight
an extra 2 hours through the night
Not that it makes much of a difference.
In 4.5 hours my alarm will go off
(not that I really need one)
and I'll continue to just survive
each torturous moment.
The only difference is the daytime
doesn't have the shrilling loneliness
of the darkness encasing me.
But soon I'll be on my way
to my first doctor's appointment of the day.
I think I have 11 this week.
Despite seeing every specialist I can think of
not a single one has known what to think
My dad was a doctor before he passed away.
I used to trust doctors,
used to believe in what they say.
That was before.
Most of them don't have the time of day for me.
I can tell some don't give a crap,
and none have an actual clue what's going on,
or how to help.
I so feel helpless.
I feel hopeless.
If they can't help,
how am I supposed to live
in this hell?
I guess that's where God comes in.
That relationship's been wearing thin too -
been hanging by a thread for a while now
Shoot
I'm at my limit.
I can't stand to write
much more explicit content.
Memories of minutes turned years
of torture.
Forgive these horrors.
I can't stand to write them,
though they write themselves
into each chasm of my soul.
I'll try to hold on
if you will
with me
Copyright ©
Rebecca Kiser
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