Another baby. This time she knows this baby will be the last.
Swimming lessons, laughter, tears. She cannot create the balance and she wants to run. She knows he is unhappy. She knows about the others. She knows about the lies. She doesn't dare tell. She is scared. She has failed. She is crazy.
She works. She cries. She sleeps. She prays. Forgets to eat. Cooks. Cleans. Puts the children on the bus. Works. She cannot tell. Not even those closest know how badly this is fucked up. She smiles. Laughs. Sleeps. Prays and she cries. She knows.
He cannot hold her. He cannot talk to her. Will not look at her. Sits up late.
She takes a break to be with her family. Leaves him with the children. She misses them all. She comes home. And she knows where he has been. She cries.
What can she tell them? She cannot do this. This is too hard.
She is tired. She cries. She sleeps. Her life for everyone else. What is this all for? She does not know what she wants, or who she is anymore. She cannot tell. She is ashamed. Overwhelms her. He sucks the air from the room. She cannot find the energy.
She cries. No one sees. She can't tell. She knows where he goes. She yells. She screams and he goes. She is lost. Confused. Scared. Hopeful. She can fix this. Of course she can. It's not too late. It's never too late. Pressure.
Published by Kristy Hunt