Hatred in the shad of pitch

I never stopped caring.
I never learned how so many let it go.
I'm sorry to the parts that are hollowed and broken.
And know that nothing will fill this void.
Not now and not tomorrow.
It takes more then I what I have to forget.
So I push every moment in front of me.
Spoon full of medication.
Squinted eyes.
And I still feel it when I close my eyes.
That is me there.
This is me now.
The same.
But less willing.
by ME Jessica A Singleton

Someone asked me if I cared the other day.
Do I care about the issues that do not revolve around my head?
How could I not.
I just don't think that there is a reason to talk to the people who did this.
They do not care.
They are covering it up.
So Why should I tell them if it hurts.
This happened almost 10 years ago.
Now you bring it up once, I've had time to heal.
It is not over and it is not fair.
What can I say?
You are the problem.
You caused the problems.
You stitched it all together.
You did this in vain.
You are to blame.
But you force it upon me.
Then you mock and black mail me with nothing.
Literally.
I have to get out of bed.
I have to clean myself.
I have to eat.
Then when I do not deal with the struggles of this.
I have a set of lungs too.
I have to breathe.
And you act like because you wanted to violate me now, that I should stop my life to talk to you about the past.
I don't have much of a future.
I don't have much of a present.
I live on other people's needs.
I have no one to turn to.
No one cares and if they do, they sure do not know how to make me feel that.
I feel alone not lonely.
How do you think it feels.????
I really do not think I want to make anymore time for you.
You 've taken up enough of my time.
P.S. I took another pregnancy test the other night.  The results are that I am not pregnant.
I got some boots with feathers.