Pmud Niarb

I used to think that I’d get better
Someday, my mind would let me breathe
The feeling of unburdened bliss
Would let me roam this world with ease
But here I sit, three decades in
Still weighed down by the curse of self
Therapy? She’s done so little
I treat it like everything else
A temporary way to heal
A bandaid for a broken limb
And nothing helps, my mind’s a war
I hate each day I can’t give in
For I am mother, wife, provider
There’s just no time to fix my brain
I wake, I live, I fall asleep
And dream that there are no more days