You can blame biochemistry, you can blame backstory.
Nature/Nurture.
Bottom line?
Nobody cares.
BUt while you’re feeling human, you can get up and do chores, you can do the things that will carry you until you have to do things again.
And I’ll lay on the bed, and I’ll hold out my hand for Cricket to use as a pillow.
Then I’ll just take a few minutes, and I’ll examine every part of his face.
The little whiskers, the white little chin, the peach markings across his face.
I’ll remember every aspect of him when he’s gone.
I’ll remember every good moment we had.
I can feel bad about where I am in this thing, can feel shitty about the shitty,,
But not him.
My man is sitting pretty.
Well fed and well loved.
That thing I did, I had to, I just did.
And now I feel, i feel i feel i feel,
I can get through this.
Which is fucked.
Totally fucked.
You’re supposed to be able to get through it alone. You’re supposed to be able to carry the entire world, by yourself.
That is strength and what I am is weakness.
Guilty.
I still feel better….
I still feel awake now,
I don’t want to die.
I want to laugh and play and be nice to people..
Pretty fucked eh?
dawn 