Untitled Hymn.

I thought about discontinuing this...just not writing for a day or two, or a week, or a month, and then maybe it would dissolve? But I made this for me-and I will continue this for me.

I want her to heal. God, if there is any prayer worth answering it is for this child. For this 40 year old woman trapped in a 19 year olds body. Someone who should never have had to see what she's seen, manipulate people like she's so good at, and who values herself as worthless...God. It's horrific to see the cuts, the blood, the abuse. I witnessed her using Heroine on skype. What a great way to tell me you shot up, right? Scared out of my mind I toss and turn every night wondering when I'll get that phone call from her mom. The call where I can't understand a word she's saying, but I know what has happened. If she dies...if my broken sister cannot learn how to heal herself? Then I don't know how I'll be able to heal, either.

Coffee breath.

I got up this morning to take my still breathing friend to the train station. We did the typical 'wave' from the platform and then went our separate ways. There's a man standing on the roof across the street from me as I sip my lukewarm coffee. This man looks strangely happy, but not as happy as we were when we were throwing tortillas off the furniture store, or pumpkins off bridges. I come here to say hello, and for the free coffee, of course. He gives me a half ass hug and doesn't even strive for eye contact.

He takes every call from her. Even steps out of meetings for her. Spends weekends visiting her, and loves her with everything he has. I know that if there were scraps, any at all, that he would love me with them...but they are rotten. They were eaten by the dog as soon as I finally stood up for myself. But I will take the love that I do have...the love from my mom, all of my beautiful friends, and from God. I will take that and let it sink in because it feels good to do that. I will be grateful for the loves that is actually tangible because I am blessed by that. I am grateful for my sticky tongue and memory of this weekend. Spending time with my still breathing friend, and my other friend who is the only other person in the world who can match my craziness. So much sleep, food, and pictures. I love that. I love freezing moments. There were so many good one's this weekend.

They're yelling again. There are 4 people in this office and it's louder than the household of 7 kids I spent the weekend with. But I will breathe in...that's it...and breathe out. Stick my pen in the crease of this, and go sleep. Wired on my coffee and thoughts-I just will.