Sunday, January 27, 2013

pretty pretty angel, how could you run, it wasn`t your fault, their day will soon come. She cries in her pillow dead tears falling free, careful to stop them so others won`t see. Pretty pretty angel, don`t stop the pain, a woeful tale for sure, silence driving you insane. Taunting images steal away her night, if only she screamed louder, if she put up more of a fight. Pretty pretty angels, tell us your tale, release the sorrow, and pay your bail.

We moved last night. So I’m a little closer to my job now. I don’t know how I’m feeling about this really. I’m so beyond grateful that we do have friends that we can stay with but I swear it feels like I’m going from one dysfunctional house to the next. I think the most horrible feeling I’m having is not having a place to call home for my daughter. No permanent place for her to stay. The next move me and her will be making will be permeate.

I had a home before I my dad got sick. I miss that home so much. It’s like a home sick feeling especially since I couldn’t even take pictures of my dad with me. I still have one on my jewelry box that he gave me for my birthday. My mom was so pissed off at him when he bought it for me, then she got really mad when he said he was going to buy me some real jewelry to put in it. She must have put the fear of god in him because it never happened.

I wasn’t the person in the picture anymore. My eyes were so happy then: I was confident without feeling the effects of what happened to me. I don’t know what happened between then and now. I don’t know how it all came out but I’m feeling everything now. My eyes look so sad all the time. I try to hide all the time. I put mascara on, make up, a little shimmer to bring out the sparkle in my eyes fooling everyone else but when I look in the mirror I’m the only person who knows the truth.

It’s sad and hurtful looking back on pictures knowing that what someone else did to you could affect your life so much and so fast. I just want to have that happiness I had 10 years ago before all this pain hit me.

I wanted to die last night. I was in the bathroom and I got angry because had to move because of the fucked up family I was born into. I wanted to cut last night so bad. The razors were under the cabinet and I had to talk myself down from cutting. The pain was just too much. I haven’t talked to Ali in two weeks and I just have a lot of things going on. I’m on my period and its only making everything else worse to handle.

I’m just going to try and take a deep breath: relax and take it one day at a time. My daughter is my motivation. I have to make it for her. She makes me happy and I won’t let her go through what I’m going through.