Who the hell knows if i will be here… today, tomorrow or any other day. If i am, hope your near by. If not, i will find my way… forward.
Always have… been a survivor. Even of my own thoughts to die. Withholding food to starve my heartache. Suffocation, in moments, while i prayed for death. A child. Yes, i was a child who believed there was a God who heard my prayers for sweet, sweet death. Until He never answered. Turned His back on His daughter… wished her to suffer more. Then whispered “Peace.” at her half-opened door. Caught her peeking, looking for answers. Cold.
Wouldn’t tell my whole story. Who cares anyhow? Well meaning people spout sugary words to the despairing child but their words always spoil once swallowed.
I have been poisoned by this world. The cream in my coffee swirls me down enough…
White Mountains New Hampshire
Memoir Musings Photography Poetry anxiety childhood courage depression dirt path dreamscapes find my way forge ahead home listening well mental well-being poisoned suffering suicide awareness this writing life wayward be White Mountains New Hampshire who am I