The Passion is for Me

I just keep hoping for a miracle that maybe one day things can change. I think where he gets confused is I don’t keep the house clean for him it is for me. The same goes for the way I decide to look or the fact I want to eat healthy or exercise it is all for me. I just have to regard him as that pesky annoying fly on the wall. The one who can care less if I do anything at all.

He F*king Hates Me

Thinking in my head where the thoughts are moving a mile a minute I can’t help but thinking that maybe it is me. See if my husband hates me and my dad hates me than common sense it is definitely me. Maybe it is my love for “airing out dirty laundry”.

For Better or Worse

I am tired of existing alone in this house of chaos while he sleeps. I wonder how much longer I have in me to stay in something that is neither better or worse or just is. Either way I can see how he respects me in that in itself is something very hard to ignore.

Another Day of Solitude

Curiously enough I always had hoped that maybe my husband would read my words and try to see it from my point of view. I imagined the day and what it would feel like and if it would somehow magically bring us together. The idea though on his authenticity is questioned when he can only…

From All Sides

I stretch my hand as far as it can go into the cold dark hair. Stretching my finger tips I think I can feel something. Sadly though whatever it is in front of me it is not my destiny to walk by it’s side. Forever cast aside in the shadows of my melancholy I struggle…