The Power of â€œdâ€ Words
I am not supposed to mention the â€œdâ€ word but the last few days Iâ€™ve had a heavy heart. I keep fighting myself, deadfall at finding happiness, or contentment. Illusions of deception and defeat. Have I met my lifeâ€™s deadline?
I feel so different than I did a year ago, single and delicate. In this moment, I do not feel the same, I feel like the â€œdâ€ word. I cannot pinpoint if its himâ€¦draining. Or is it the premature responsibility of my motherâ€™s rebirth, maybe both?
Iâ€™ve had thoughts of shaking everyone off like a gypsy shakes off water after a bath. I cannot find alone time anywhere I go. I die with defiance a little more each day.
Home alone in the living room to hear my motherâ€™s deloused footsteps on the stairs. Invading my air, the room gets tighter.
I move to my dorm just to hear decry after decry after decry. Each of my offspring invades the light, making it deeper in darkness and itâ€™s not even night.
I cannot scold or scream at them because someone is always needs to be here, if they were not here than where would they beâ€¦homeless.
I feel suffocated and itâ€™s not from a waist trainer.
He is home now. His mood and inability to stay awake sends me into a past of dead fish and delusive air.
I want to avenge myself because he is in debt to me. I want him to pay for all the men of my past, present and future. Fighting my own demonsâ€¦repulsive.
Iâ€™ve gained weight and for the first time ever I find comfort in food and the sleep I was once deprived of.
The â€œdâ€ word presents itself again, evolving from suffocation to hide in internet searches, clouds revealed in clicks of dust left on my mouse. I rub my eyes, not knowing if I am sleeping, if I am awakeâ€¦am I eating or am I dying.
â€œdâ€ presentâ€™s again, announcing itself in the strokes of my pencil contained in these letters.
Only this time I say, I am the â€œdâ€ word, for that reason depressed.