I’m alone again. Another year older, and alone again.
Next year, I’ll be older again. Will I be alone, then?
And the year after, what about then?
Will I ever hold a baby in my arms.. roll over to a sleeping husband in a safe home?
Wake up to crying children, to make breakfast and drink coffee with one eye open.
Who would ever choose me?
Broken goods. Broken spirit. Broken heart.
The good ones. The right ones stay. She says that. But how does she know?
No one will ever stay. Maybe for a time. And then they will leave. By choice. By addiction. By disease.
Then I’ll be alone again. Why stay on this merry go round.
I have made way from my previous reminders. Now I have more.
The white elephant gift. Books. Poetry. Succulents. Plants.
Candy. Movies we watched. Trips we took.
Strings. And my soul is at rest. Begging for trust that this will be okay. Right, God? I’m waiting for you to hear me. I’m next in line.
Married to Pain 