So, And Too Often.

I pressed the coffee to my lips
full well knowing the aftermath it causes.
But my eyes were tired
My heartbeat slowing,
but hands were on the wheel
I could not slow down.
She looked so fragile last night
lying in my arms, and helpless.
And I cried hoping she would not know.
She knew for a moment
I am so sorry
So, and too sorry for my own good
little sister
Who would think I'd been fighting?
Not just my eyes right now
(Only moments of sleep...only hours)
but my whole being
Jumping out of my skin
Split in half and constantly
changing along a spectrum
I have been fighting and then
I screamed for help until I lost
my breath
Until I fell over
sick and tired, and helpless
She told me "have some self discipline, child"
Well, I do. I do and I try very hard.
But the closet monsters...they forgot to check
I know I lied. I know I was wrong
But I'm screaming for help now
(Okay?)
Who could ever know I was fighting?
I am fighting.
A closet monster
A demon
A feeling of selfishness and many many
sleepless night.
A terror of losing control
to rages, and highs, and insanity
that I cannot control.
Who could ever think to reach out?
To guess that
I am fighting
myself.
But so is she, and her eyes closed in my arms.
(Don't let her feel guilty for me helping her fight too.
I love her as blood, and she
helps me in helping.)
So I shook her in
five minute intervals
to keep her conscious,
holding her tight.