My parents are arguing ... which they do a lot. I suppose odds are high that Mom will eventually read this, although I'm not sure how much attention she, or anyone, pays to this blog, but it's really hard to listen to them & not let it effect me. I broke up with my ex because we argued too much, and sometimes I wonder how, sometimes even why, my parents are still together. It makes me want to cry. The arguments themselves, what they argue over, the fact that most of the time I feel me being here doesn't help anything either, even though I'm contributing, even though I'm keeping food on the table I wonder if they'd be better off without me still here. I may not be the stereotypical 30-year old in the basement, but I'm creeping up on that horrible milestone from my 2nd-floor bedroom.
I was in an OK place, almost a good place when I came home, now I feel myself slipping into a darker place. A good place for writing LOL. Ironic. Or something.
They argue, squabble, speak hurtful words
While everything unsaid also goes unheard
True path untrod, true love unheeded
Unwell, unwanted, in the end, unneeded
Such comfort in a lover's arms
Until that comfort turns to harm
Intentionally push, push, close to the edge
Until you are pushed, pushed over the ledge
No warmth in the heart, no peace in the home
Although I am so lonely, I would rather be alone
When there's so much inside, I feel like I need a way to pour it out, and even dark poetry that I'm not totally happy with is a better outlet than what I used to do. Venting/ranting helps a little too, which I didn't used to have an outlet for. So even though under normal circumstances I might consider this TMI to post, I'm going to do so as a catharsis.
Thanks for reading.
~Colette