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Oh! Family!

by Frankie 2 years ago in sad poetry
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My Internal Hell

One thing about death is you realize all the questions you never asked and all the answers you don't remember..

What was mom's favorite color ?

Favorite food?

Favorite Movie?

It's like in one swift unexpected sweep your world is unintelligible . All your previous beliefs and theories and analysis go right out the car window when everyone's dead.

Who even were they?

My mother and father a slight hazy glimpse at a life, and a person, that no longer existed ...

as you delve deeper into your nightmare you start to forget and the good times , the alive people .. turn to dreams .

Just hazy scattered memories you can't recall any longer, because the drugs have numbed and altered the chemicals in your brain that serve to remember and feel.

Almost like it had always been this way .

The dream is now this unattainable reality, I now wished I could return to!

but with strife and adversity people change .

That Frankie is no longer here, and is now just a figment of your being, stored away in the dark towering file cabinets of the brain, looming over me ..

Oh Mother!

Oh Father!

Oh Baby Sis!

OH! How I wish I could join you on your journey of the afterlife, as some days don't seem worth getting out of bed in this state. Within my own sadness and desires, I have created an unintelligible mess. A knot.I am now questionable to the idea of living .

Why my ...

if there is a god he dislikes me strongly.

- but it would help to know..

Why me ?

Why my family ?

As toxic and destructive every member was, they were still my life. The two people who'd raised me and developed me and contributed to who I am today, whether through pain, or pleasure, ceased to exist on this planet ...

and with baby sis, oh! the last straw was thrown ..

There's days I miss sis so much it burns . My stomach fills with hot acid , tight, and clammy, my tummy wrestles it's own muscles to relax... as the mind slips into the most precious of memories .

Memories that now ceased to form ,

that hung in the air

like stale cigarette smoke

within an unventilated room.

The walls and fabrics seeping up it's menacingly lethargic vestige.

Until the smoke was absorbed

and you were left

with the strong odor

of

burning

cancer.

sad poetry

About the author

Frankie

I have no pleasure in the stimulants in which I so madly indulge. It hasnt been in the pursuit of pleasure that Ive periled life and reputation, but a desperate attempt to escape the torturing memories, & a sense of insupportable lonelines

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