#drained.

There’s this great big ball of nothing in my chest. All things go in there. I opened it to bring out my pain to feel it, to heal my abused portion of my souls by embracing all the pain I shoved away as a child but I don’t remember how I closed it. It’s just too big. I know how it finally closed for good but I’m too old to get pregnant and realize my life is now in the hands of this tiny child. She needs me, which they really don’t anymore. They take my calls to humor me. They don’t call or chat unless I initiate it.

I suppose you reap what you sow… but my mother was emotionally, psychologically and physically abusive. That’s why I don’t call her that often. But I suppose it is what it is.