Wednesday, October 29, 2014


I'm all alone. Laying here. In a hospital bed. In some exam room. In the neurology department. There's no one here. But me. And I can't stop the tears. I can't handle the pain. Spasms into legs. Sharp stabbing in my hips. A bruised back. Hole in my spine. In between two vertebrae. Laying here. In a skimpy hospital gown. No one around. Not a soul. It's me. Always me. Only me.

I squeeze the pillow. Try not to yell out. Not a single peep. No noise. Body bent. Back arched. Needles. Five times. Numb. Catheter. Cerebral spinal fluid. Pressure. Paralyzed. I'm silent. Until I can't hold it in any longer. The pain overwhelms. The tears explode out of my eyes. I gasp and try to breathe. The world is collapsing around me. Suffocating. Unbearable. 

I lay here. I'm all alone.

Tuesday, October 28, 2014

Never Dull

After Shabbos
Driving alone 
Road trip 
Music blaring 
Pop pop
Loud noise 
Highway shoulder 
Flat tire 
No answer 
Mile marker
Reading book 
Spare tire
50 mph
Exit 3
Motel search 
Econo Lodge
Room 101
Bolted door
No toothpaste 
Broken vending machine 
Eventual sleep
3:45 wake up 
Domestic violence 
8 am checkout 
Orange juice 
Forgotten ring 
Pep Boys
New tire 
On the road again 
6:45 am
On the road again
4 hours 
Sleep study 

Monday, October 20, 2014

Ignorance is Beautiful

It seems that I will always be dependable. Reliable. I will always live to serve. My role as an individual is almost unnecessary. The me that hides beneath is mute. Silent. I go through the motions. And sometimes I actually do care. But it's mostly a facade. A distraction. From the truth. From reality. From myself. Your lives and dramas are so much easier to deal with. No emotion required. No self-reflection or motivation needed. Inspiration flown out the window ages ago. Ignorance is a welcomed drug. A wonderful pill to swallow. Unlike the horse-pill that lies around the corner. Waiting to close up my throat. Suffocate my lungs. Empty any stomach-juices left in my body. Leaning over a toilet or any available garbage can.

Ignorance is a beautiful thing. It prevents from mourning a loved one. Erases the pain of seeing the dead. Watching as dirt is dug and one plain box is lowered into the earth. Numb as a life is forever gone. The end. Unconditional love has slipped through your finger tips. Never to exist again. Any possible heartache gone. Holding a mother who cannot stop crying and does not know why. I am not a daughter. I am a mother. A caretaker. A mother to no one. I am not a wife. But somehow I got sucked into that role. Because I live to serve. I sacrificed myself. I was afraid to soar. To fly. I could not let go. I could not feel. I pushed it all under the carpet. I lost me. I have disappeared. And for what. What do I have to show for any of it. Nothing. Nothing.