February, fell down a rabbit hole. Turned around to take a hard look at some hard times and fell head-first.
falling. Every time I thought I’d hit the bottom I just kept going. I honestly didn’t think it would be this hard.
I’m crazy now. Or crazier, maybe, than I used to be. Me and Alice, down here in the hole. Mentally ill by definition. No straightjackets down here – I tried to get a bed in the loony bin, forgetting that we’d already shut them all down.
So I sit in a law firm by day, sipping my tea with all the Mad Hatters, quietly going bananas in a Banana Republic shirt. I do make this look pretty good.
Chronic PTSD, that’s the label they’ve pinned on me / I have a punch card at the pharmacy.
That’s the lullaby we sing at night, down here in our rabbit hole. It’s been a while – since we last spoke I’ve kept my husband and said good-bye to most of my family. But to you I wanted to say hello.