Surreal down to my stomach by Emily H. Sturgill

Surreal down to my stomach by Emily H. Sturgill 4/4/15

(All rights reserved-but can be re-posted as long as you credit myself & my blog- All Artwork & Images also by Emily Sturgill.

)Camera madala13 madala12

Surreal down to my Stomach

Swallowing coffee along with

my vowels, consonants, poetry

vomiting here and there

words on my pages

endlessly.

Surreal down to my toes

Eating fairy tales at breakfast

munching on the crunchy

internet with its crisp edges

and social networking sites

I eat them whole

with a gulp

but my eyes are too big

for my stomach.

tossing up cookies

throwing up twitter

puking up facebook

hoping to feel better.

Surreal down to my bones.

my bowels do not work

right or I would be

shitting out sentences

pissing out punctuation

defecating out imperfections.

But I cannot. Even sit straight.

I am nailed to my bed.

Attached to a couple of heating pads

choking on endometriosis

and puking out the Sun.

Surreal moments.

Time passes me by.

Always this cramping, constant feeling of unwellness.

Endometriosis has shattered my heart-beat

into two rhythms.

into two pumps of poetic pulsing

rapid flowing & cursing

pumps of blood.

Surreal down to my Skin.

Surreal down to my Stomach.

Surreal down to my toes.

Surreal down deeply-

surreal down to my bones.

thinking too much

thinking too much…

12/31/14

thinking too much…

about all this crap & such.

i’ve been walking the highwire

for quite a while

and i’ve been struggling to deal

with things

and wounds

and people

who never heal.

 

everytime i try

to reach out & ask for help

people look at me like

i am way beyond crazy.

 

as if i were not living in

an ultra stressful situation

with my own sanity

constantly in question?

 

i don’t even know

how many ways

i’ve attempted or even tried

to say:

 

this is far too much for me

to handle

this is far too much for US

to handle

this is far too much for your brother

to handle…

 

you take it for granted

that we will always take care

of her for You.

 

But what if I can’t?

What if I told you, it’s straining our marriage,

its too much to deal with

She is constantly on the offensive

I feel like I am always under attack.

 

Her constant complaining.

Her constant screaming, cursing and yelling.

Her never-ending depressions.

 

I have a Serious Mental Illness.

Christ-if you cannot deal with her,

with the hell makes You think?!

that I can??

 

I feel like trying to cut my wrists.

To bleed a bit.

Just to alleviate-all this pain.

 

i feel like i am losing my mind.

i feel like i am clearly insane.

i feel like you do not give a

damn.

 

How long do you expect us-

to deal with all this

Mother stuff?

 

When do I get what you have?

A peaceful house alone with my husband-

why is that impossible for you to

understand?

 

thinking too much…

about all this crap & such.

i’ve been walking the highwire

for quite a while

and i’ve been struggling to deal

with things

and wounds

and people

who never heal.