a few days ago this house, this family and this girl seemed so bright, but once again things are slowly dimming. i'm so scared to fall back to my demise.. let myself get tiny, get lost in a drunken haze.

i just can't carry what people are throwing at me.

the tea isn't helping anymore.

i need somebody to hug me (then suffocate me).

from "cherry" by mary karr:
oh for chrissake, mother. come here, you say. when you hug her, she feels oddly pliable in your hands. she draws back to look at you with that abstracted expression she brings to her sculpture. she tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, pinching a caress along your jawline like it's clay she's shaping. but she's not shaping you anymore. she long ago asked you to shape yourself, occasionally tossing out a strand of worry for you to dismiss.