These beeping machines, low talking tones and glaring hall lights are keeping me awake and causing me to reflect upon things that are better left forgotten…

Every beep is a heartbeat with my head upon his chest. He was my ocean and his chest a shell that let me hear every beautiful, painful, precious, hidden truth of self he hid away in fear.

The nurses gossiping about one another in the hall feels all too hurtful when I place myself in the shoes of the one being made conversation fodder. I want to tell them that words wound and some of those wounds never heal no matter how many bandages or the length of time. Why must women be so manipulative and cruel to one another? It deepens my disdain for my own gender which in turn hurts my heart more.

The too bright bathroom light beckons me back to the day when my own lightbulb clicked on upstairs. The day that I finally knew I could not stay…that they had broken me down into pieces even I, the big, strong girl, could not mend. That “goodness” in disguise had destroyed with lies. The day I saw the light and realized that some puzzles will always be missing pieces and that some people lie with “I love you’s”.


All I want to do is sleep and it seems sleep is all I cannot do.

I can’t decide if it’s ridiculous or necessary that my mind goes to this least expected of places when I’m stressed and suffering. I suppose it’s the only way to bring bits of that boy back to me? Or maybe it’s just reminding me that my heart has weathered worse storms than this and lived to beat another day.