I feel like this should be drawn in my brain,
as the worst week I can imagine,
I fear that the year is not yet done with me,
and I don’t know what to say.
To realise and face up to the truth,
That one’s parents are not invincible,
like you think when you are young,
That they break just like you.
To spend 2 hours on the telephone,
with mental health services, in a country far away…
To realise that crazy runs in your blood, and
To then hear of a family death.
To read about the funeral of a friend long lost,
In the papers rather than being there.
And to know one friend is not yet found,
and attempting to bring comfort to their children.
To find your cousin in rehab
and another diagnosed with breast cancer.
To hear a beloved Aunt, has been given only months to live,
And to top it all off,
I am
still homeless,
Still in reality,
Jobless,
And with no light at the end of this.
… this isn’t meant to be poetry, its just trying to put the last 7 days of my life out there.