Too tired to format this, to tired to care. Not thinking about writing fame or fortune, just wanting to put my heart on a page.

I haven’t talked to you in so long. I almost lost it today, eating a cheeseburger with Dad, sitting in the car, in the rain. He’s just a little boy these days. He can be so cute and funny. I see why you (sometimes)loved him. I (sometimes )do , too. Does that discount the love altogether?  How can a person learn to love in a vacuüm? Why did you stay with him if he hurt you so bad? Were you honest to me on your death-bed, when you told me I had a sister, and that she was his? Why did you give me that wedding band, you told me a man you loved in New York gave it to you.  You had my sister in New York. My sister…

what is she like? Is she still alive? Did her adoptive parents tell her she had a sister, and a brother? Do you think she ever wonders about me?  Do you think she would like me?   Love me?

You loved me, didn’t you Mum? I didn’t ruin your life, did I ? Is that why I have a gaping wound where my heart should be?

They tell me my faith should be enough. Knowing that I’ll be with you soon. I ask Him for patience, endurance, more faith. Soundness of mind.

But it’s like…. I can’t tell you what it is like. It’s like ” going mad by drips” like Dickens said..I know I will be with you soon, Jehovah promises me in the Bible. We will live free from sickness, free from pain. Our bodies won’t betray us with pain, or death.  I will be able to think clearly again, and none of my bones will never make me cry. I remember how you would hold my hands for me when it got bad, and you would squeeze  my fingers like I asked. Nobody ever does that for me now- I sure hope we can be together soon.


I miss you tonight…


Author: ST Martin

I am an Artist, Poet and Author. A Survivor of Violent Sexual Abuse and Rape, I have lived thru Severe Domestic Violence, Twenty Three years of Addiction and Alcoholism, Family Dysfunction, Chronic Pain, Dependence on Opioids, and 2 Venomous Snake Bites...I have Been Stabbed, Shot at, Tied to a Tree and Choked Unconscious. A Quarter Horse Rolled on Me, as did a Lawn Tractor. I also Wrecked a Harley into a Tree! I also have PTSD and Rapid Cycling Bipolar Disorder, and spent my 18th birthday in a Locked Psychiatric Ward. I am so much more than this: I feel like a tiny seed that sprouted in a desert, and now has grown into a Passion Vine. My Art is my Voice, Screaming, Crying, Praying, Loving, Laughing, Healing- all in Riotous Color...

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