about post partum depression

On The Brink



ON the brink of madness I collapse collide with the voices and the cries I see those little eyes red like hell's fire the screams from the minions and dozens of worshipers become my reality the nightmare unforgiving I sit in shallow thinking see words of God on pages marred with blood and incomprehensible text what's next the only words I see and read are death clouding my ears the scarilege born unto me from my womb the terror that used to be life torn apart and ripped through my soul how can this be my baby part of the devils ministry hearing his humming and chanting from the mouth I helped conceived I grieve inside my madness my head and I speak and beg and yell for anyone to see to help me free the life of this tiny bundle of hatred and mixed visions blindly I stare and know my sentiment is not there but I know what I see and feel is oh so real and cursed will I be if I allow this hellion to survive within my maddening method for resolution and the persecution of non belivers that my emotion is not important or valid when I am making a confession to re-enact the played out scenes of post partum depression....my mirror doesn't show me.