Torn.

 

Home,

Echoing your name,

They all want you back,

Pulling you apart,

Limb by limb,

Breaking you down,

Destroying every bit of you,

The only choice ~

Give up,

Let them consume you,

Let them become you,

Taking every inch of you with them,

Dragging you down.

 

Your thoughts,

Your wants,

Your needs,

All irrelevant.

What matters you ask?

Them,

Their opinions,

Their happiness,

Their desires,

Pretending they care for you,

Faking their interest,

Who do they think they are?

 

Don’t you get it?

No matter how loud you scream,

Nobody cares,

It’s all an act,

As if your opinion ever mattered.

 

Sit down,

Shut up,

Let them tear you apart.

(As if you had a choice).

~MM

A Motherless Mother’s Day.

Lately I’ve found my body aching, my mind wandering, my concentration dropping and this feeling of overwhelming sadness fill my body.

Not the kind of sadness you can just brush off, I’m talking about the type that comes from a dark place inside of you, one your body can’t handle, almost writhing in pain trying to escape it.

The reason why?

Mothers day, its two days away and as each second passes I feel my breath slowly slipping away.

My first thought was to ignore the day, treat it like any other, it was just another Sunday after all.

But then it all started, it started with the emails, all these special deals to whisk your beautiful mother away.

That was the first stab, right in the back.

I guess I never saw it coming.

Shortly after, the emails progressed into advertisements, all of mother and daughter spending the day together, both carrying almost a sense of what I can only explain as a ‘sickening happiness’.

That was the second stab, not in the back this time, this one felt closer to home, this one went straight into my chest, this one stopped my heart from beating.

The next few days consisted of me deleting emails and ignoring advertisements, and then came the inevitable. Friends, they began talking about the upcoming celebrations, conversations that were inevitable no matter how badly I tried to avoid them.

This part, the third part, it felt unbearable; it was out of my control, no longer something I could ignore or turn off. This part, the worst part, that’s what took my breath away.

I’ve felt like I’ve been running on low oxygen ever since, as if its almost impossible to make it through this day. A day that was so cherished, a day I made sure never to miss, a day, the perfect day where the whole world seemed to stop, where you could finally let that one special person in your life know how much they mean to you, because without a mother, we are nothing.

I guess what I am trying to say is that it sucks. There is no other way to describe it, and for all those Motherless this Mother’s Day, just remember to breath, one day at a time you will make it through, you’ve made it this far after all, I guess that means you’re pretty amazing, time to show all of our Mother’s what strong incredible children they have raised, lets make not only our Mums but also ourselves proud this Sunday.

And…

For the others, the lucky ones blessed with their Mother’s presence this Mothers day I have only one piece of advice and that is to never take your mother for granted, life is way too short and you realize soon after they’ve gone just how much you need them.  So take some time off, move some things around, do whatever you can to be with her this Mother’s day.

That’s what I did last year, moved everything I had to fly home and see Mum, friends thinking I was crazy and asking why.

My response was simple.

I told them I had to go, I told them I felt compelled to go, I told them that I would never miss a Mother’s Day, I told them about her sickness and I told them I needed to go, I needed to do this, I needed to see her, just incase it was our last Mother’s Day together.

Not even realising just how right I would be.

~MM

A note to those who don’t understand. 

Have you ever watched a fire and wondered what it would feel like to jump right in?

Because I have.

Or have you ever watched the waves come crashing down and wonder what drowning would feel like?

Because I have.

Or have you ever held a pack of pills so tightly and wondered what it might feel like to take them all?

Because I have.

Or has it ever crossed your mind to take a blade to your wrist, wondering how deep you can push until you don’t feel anything?

Because I have.

Or,

Have you ever been driving and wondered what it would feel like to roll off the bank, drive into that power poll or roll right off that cliff?

Because I have.

So before you come around here, telling me who I am and who I am not. 

Take a step back.

And before you come over and start judging me, telling me my behaviour is “not me”.

Take a step back.

And before you even begin to reassure me that you “know what it feels like.”

Take a step back.

Take a step back, and ask yourself one simple question..

Have you ever wondered what it might feel like to just not feel anything anymore? 

Because I have. 

(You on the other hand,

You,

You need to take a step back). 

~MM

Masked.

A smile from ear to ear,

Eyes filled with life,

Her heart overflowing with love,

Dressed to perfection,

She couldn’t look happier,

That’s the plan though, isn’t it?

Another little game,

Nobody would ever suspect,

She was wearing a mask,

All of it – a lie,

Stripped back,

Look closer,

The smile begins to crack,

Eyes red raw,

A heart struggling to beat,

Mask unraveling,

Piece by piece,

Finally seeing what’s underneath,

Something so unbearable,

A person so close to dying,

A person so close to giving up,

Stop playing,

Stop acting,

Nobody believes such a childish act,

The moment people began treating her differently,

She knew her mask had faded,

Game over.

(Time to change masks).

~MM

Write Where It Hurts.

Write Where It Hurts,

That’s what they say, isn’t it?

After all, with hurt comes emotions, buckets full of them. Raining, no, pouring down, enough to fill oceans. Oceans filled with these waves, all carrying different feelings, different thoughts, different emotions… and worst of all, different kinds of hurt. One after the other they begin to consume you, just when you come up for air the next one hits, followed by another, and another. Crashing down on top of you, weighing you down, no, holding you down.

Waves filling every aching part of your body with the worst kinds of pain, the kind that buries itself in your bones, the kind that you can never shake. So you begin to write, after all that’s what they say, write where it hurts, its meant to help, so here I am trying it. I am writing where it hurts, I am writing about every single wave that’s knocking me back, every wave that’s consuming me and filling my body with so much pain.

Yet, I still feel like I’m drowning, maybe it’s just me, or maybe its not as simple as they say it is. At the end of the day there’s always exceptions to the rule, so I ask this, one simple question~

What happens when it all hurts?

When every single part of your body aches, as you try to crawl inside yourself in an attempt to shudder the pain, as you take a blade to your skin in an attempt to erase the pain, as you fill oceans with tears trying to erase the pain that has become you. Attempt after attempt, failure after failure.

So here we stand,

All here to write our own stories, our own forms of ‘hurt’, in an attempt to express ourselves, to get something off our chest, to ease that aching feeling inside of us. We are all just writing where it hurts, because that’s the only way we know how to cope, but what happens when that isn’t enough, when you’ve written books full of hurt and come back with more pain than ever before.

What happens when writing isn’t enough?

What happens when the pain hits you like an ocean?

What happens when the waves begin dragging you down?

What happens when you run out of air?

And most importantly,

What the hell happens when it all hurts?

~MM

Alone.

Here I stand,

In another crowded place,

Day after day,

As it fills with smiles,

Laughter,

Chatter,

Suddenly silence hits,

The room,

Frozen,

They all turn to face me,

Waiting for my offering,

Nothing comes out,

I began feeling the way I always do,

Worthless,

Emotionless,

Not good enough,

And left with nothing,

Alone again,

“Don’t worry,” I whisper,

Loneliness feels like home.

~MM

“Don’t cry.”

 

“Don’t cry,” I whisper.

Again and Again,

As if it will help.

Holding back tears,

“Don’t cry,” I say.

Crying invites weakness,

Weakness invites demons,

Demons invite nightmares,

An inescapable form of hell.

“Don’t cry,” I demand,

Nightmares consuming me,

Sadness becoming me,

Hold tight,

Hold on,

Trying to fight it.

 

“Don’t cry,” they whisper,

Noticing your sadness,

Sensing your weakness,

Smelling your demons,

Already in tears,

They know.

You were always weak,

Too late,

Tears filling your eyes,

“Don’t cry,” they say,

Battling,

Tears becoming you,

Overwhelming you,

As you begin to drown.

“Don’t cry,” they demand,

Drop my drop,

Falling deeper and deeper,

Drowning.

(As if anyone could save you).

~MM