Breaking

She lays in bed, staring at the tv with glazed, puffy eyes. Half paying attention to the show, partially distracted by her husband’s snoring, completely engulfed in her personal pain and sorrow. 

Every day, as she rests her head on her pillow, she feels her essence breaking. She tosses and turns, trying to figure out how to stop the pieces from falling. Her husband’s persistent snoring only makes her foundation crack that much more. This time she’s going to snap completely in two. Dear God, ROLL OVER!!

He complies and for a moment she has one less thing in her life that’s breaking her. But her body still hurts. Her thoughts still race. Her heart still breaks. Go to sleep. Just go to sleep. Go. The fuck. To sleep. Suddenly, Samuel L. Jackson’s voice plays in her head. She wants to smile, but it doesn’t come. 

Her eyes ache and she’s beginning to get a headache. But her heart is racing as if something terrible is on its way. She tries to tire herself out with games on her phone. They’re all boring. Too boring to even bother with. 

And he’s snoring again. Please just end my suffering now. Take me away from here. Take me away before I cause irreparable damage. An empty prayer to no one in particular. Apparently. 

There is no peace. Life is a never ending cesspool of shit. 

Ugh, that’s dark. Who am I, Sweeney Todd? Go to sleep. Go to sleep. GO TO SLEEP!

So. Fucking. Broken. 

But when she finally sleeps, those cracks start to mend. Some pieces go back to their original(ish) place and she can then get out of bed and push through the rest of the day until she breaks all over again. 

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