Diaper change, breakfast,
Get dressed.
Make the bed.
Me, eat? Nah.
I'm not hungry.
I'm not awake.
Just now, I feel
I'm not alive,
Just this cardboard
Cutout of what
Everyone expects me
To be. The outline
Of a mom, the shadow
Of myself- at least,
What once was myself.
Today is a Karen day.
That's the way I woke
Up; I can try to fight
It, but Karen doesn't
Have the will. She
Doesn't have the fight
Like I do, but she
Is, thankfully,
A mother like I am.
Tired... bone-weary,
-What most would call
Lazy- the desire
To do is, simply,
Lacking. I am still
Trying to figure her
Out: What does Karen
Want? What does she like?
What has put her in
This depression,
Caused her to forget
What she once loved
About life- did she
Ever love life? I
Can't remember...
Karen.
Karen just wants peace,
And calm. At the moment,
A quiet room to rock
And shed her tears,
To sleep her day away
Rather than face it.
Harder for her! And I
Can't always force her
To- sometimes she wins.
Today, we're doing okay.
We're at least out of
Bed. Food? Nah. That's
A step too far for Karen
This morning. But I
Feel this pressure behind
My eyes, begging for
The sweet release
Of dropped tears.
How long can I fight it?
How long can I fight her?
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