Fragments - 2/28/13

Outside, the wind throws my hair into my face. I stand alone, lost in the past, always lost in the irretrievable past. It's one of those days when I don't want to be here in this life. It's not that I want to die, it's that I want to go back to the world before my father's death. I want to eat dinner with him and watch our favorite television shows and kiss him goodnight. I want to be his little girl again.


So little of me is left. Too much has been taken.


The moment I truly lost everything was when I discovered that death is possible.


All I want is to escape into books and poems and films. I want to be filled with something other than these fears, these thoughts, this self. 


I am tired of trying to find the words for my anguish. I am beginning to accept that the words simply do not exist.