Directions Not Included

My day starts 

           With alarms

                        And rolling over

                                 And wanting

                                             Five

                                                      More

                                                                     Minutes

Stirred to flames again at the slightest provocation?

When did the burning in my eyes mean more than the tears of frustration?

The hurts and holes and fears all piled high in perpetuation.

When did the power of my words suffer bleeding castration?

Burning booking, marking pages, censorships, mass striation.

The hope in my heart is turning blood and gore and fighting generation.

I work a regular 9 to 5 job, but he's been on second shift for a few months because the money was good. But this left me alone to run the house, take care of the kids, etc. right? Well, it was really starting to take a toll on my mental health. He didn't notice for awhile because the only time we saw each other was in the mornings on the weekends and 30 mins a day on his dinner break during the week.

He took notice when I came upstairs one Saturday at noon, took one look at the absolute destruction in my living room that I had cleaned the night before, burst into tears and then went back to bed for the rest of the day. He (thankfully) had the day off.

He let me sleep. Then took measures to make sure he could go back to first shift as soon as humanly possible. He took over as many responsibilities as he could, like laundry (which can be done in the middle of the night) and some grocery shopping, and he now goes back to first this upcoming Monday.

Me: I gotta go. Aunt M is calling. (hangs up and tries to answer but it won't connect) Huh. I guess I have to call her back.