When Insanity Shouts: Listen

There is something particularly cruel about this one.

A brother detoxing, some days barely alive 
In my guest room.

A little girl, two and a half,
By my side day in and out.

Pregnant, anxious with worry,
After the miscarriage.

 
Caring for all of you,
In my home,
In my womb.

I remember weeping,
Begging him,
Because I felt so alone. 

And him,
Claiming he was trying,

He didn't know what to do.

A hotel room in Cincinnati.
Did it feel like home wasn't real?
Like he could be a man free
Of problems
Of responsibilities
Of family?

The problems he was ignoring
Even when he was home.
I married a Lost Boy,
And Wendy-bird, she can solve anything.

And she did.
Over and over again.

Feed the brother.
Read to the daughter.
Sing to the unborn baby.
Clean the house.
Make dinner for your overworked husband.
Ignore the insanity in your head.

Even though the insanity knew,
Somehow, the whole time.

Keep trying,
Don't break.
Take care of them,

No one else will.

Don't look around to see,
There is no one to take care of you.