Category Archives: Bedtime

Reading well into the night is never easy. It is a chore! cause you never know who you will end up being during those times. A huntress? A vampire? A teen? A Teacher? A crazed stalker. Books help create dreams when reality isn’t enough

Today’s nightmare

Posted by Zeannaroux on

The demons in my head won’t let me say goodbye yet.

As I lay here trying to sleep I can see her vividly. Her poor little broken body. I can see the message and hear the calls of people who never cared to check on her when she was alive. How the weep for her, begging for one last chance to do nothing I guess. I hate them more than I hate the idea of her being gone. My little girl is gone, at least that is what my brain is telling me. I can see her dying so clearly. See her little casket covered in pink roses with pretty purple ribbon. Her body lays so perfectly and yet it is their lies that haunt me.

Maybe it is because I am used to seeing her die. I often dream of the day when my little girl will leave me. How cruel this world can be and how easily it can try to take her away. I see it almost every day. Maybe something is wrong with me but I think I am to used to being insane that it is downright comforting.

My daughter is ok. She is sleeping her bed. Her pretty bow lips forming smiles when I kiss her cheek. Family and friends may not call but she is happy and ok. All will be ok.

I see poetry when I think of you

Posted by Zeannaroux on

I see poetry when I think of you.

The urge to dip my pen and write is fighting me. Drowing out my other senses. I have no fear in this yet I stand still. Listless in the making that is my only vital flaw. I must write to ease it all. The cramping in my hand just lets me know I am alive. Because in reality you are all that I need. My sweet muse. My reason to breathe. I can’t help but hear poetry when I see your smile. And though it takes a hold of me so violently I can not bring myself to fear it. I may stand still and listless, I can’t help but revere it. Writing is my most vital flaw of which you are my reason.

Five glorious years

Posted by Zeannaroux on

Today my daughter got into trouble. Nothing major but I can tell that it left a stain on the day. She wouldn’t listen so I yelled. After that moment she refused to talk to me. Even after I apologized and asked for her forgiveness she did not speak. Only later did she tell me that I hurt her feeling.

My daughter is five.

I should have more respect for this tiny human and yet. I think I put to much on her shoulders. I think I expect to much and get angry. She isn’t the best listener. She gets overly excited about pretty much everything. But that does not deserve my anger no matter how frustrating it can be at times.

My daughter is five.

I feel like such a monster. I told her so. I told her how I did not wish to hurt her. I apologized and asked for forgivenesd but…I also told her that it was ok. She did not have to accept my sorry. She did not even have to forgive me. What I said, what I did, left a stain on our day. I would do anything to go back and change what I did.

My daughter is only five.

And yet she lives her life with a mother who struggles with mental illness. She knows emotions like other children know candy and shopping sprees. She can tell you safety plans for every occasion and exactly what it means when mommy can’t seem to sleep.

Yet she tells me I am the best mommy ever. That she loves me no matter what. That she is proud of me. She looks forward to my hugs. She smiles so brightly when I tell her how I feel…even on the bad days. I am so proud of her and I tell her. I tell her all the time. I may be a monster but in her eyes I am worth it. In my eyes she is a reason.

Juice From The Berry Tree

Posted by Zeannaroux on

I never persumed to know love

Tickled beneath a berry tree

as giggles touched the leaves

I was never one to really believe

In love and all those silly things

But here I sit in stiled laughter

With a daunting dancing daughter

Her smile lightens my darkened heart

Beneath this berry tree

1 by 1, 2 by 2, she calls to me, lovingly

Beneath this berry tree

I have no idea where I was going with this but here-

Posted by Zeannaroux on

I must wear it like a chain around my neck


A bloody weight specially made of gossamer wings and naivety


For a split second I can see it
A tiny throne for a tiny king


Strong,

holding me upon a dirty bed


Strangers walk by with their stilted lies
throwing their red paint and holy words


A christening by those who curse


It must be hanging like a noose
This tightly woven cradle where tiny kings,
With tiny wings can slumber


For a split second I can feel it


(Tantalizing fingers glimmer, gently brushing remembering the need)


Remembering the greed
It didn’t take that long to bleed


As they tugged and pulled away my flesh
Cutting into my skin like a second dress


I remember it so clearly


Maybe that is why I wear it around my neck
This bloody weight specially made of
Gossamer wings and tenacity


Such a tiny throne for a unwanted king