Sometimes I think I’ll lose it. Like maybe I’ll just chop off all my hair, run out into the street and start screaming at the top of my lungs. Everyone will be so afraid that they’ll leave me alone. They’ll stop asking me questions and telling me to do things and demanding I be better.

“I can’t be better! Don’t you see? This is everything, this is me giving you everything!”

They’ll shake their heads in disappointment, walk away talking to each other, trying to figure it out, figure me out.

I’ll hear their judgmental whispers and run wildly after them until there’s no air left in my lungs. I’ll scream so loudly behind them that they’ll hear me in their dreams.

“Get away! Stay away! I don’t want to live in your world anymore, all you do is take! There’s nothing left! You took everything just get away!”

Their eyes will grow wide and maybe they’ll understand for a split second, maybe I’ll get through to the place when they were young and sad and confused. But then they will inevitably return to their mean lives, to taking taking taking from everyone, and I’ll be the one shaking my head at them.

I’ll burn all my clothes, run away and forget everything. Be the crazy lady who hangs garbage from trees and sings lullabies to the grass. Live alone somewhere pretty where no one can take any more. Find my peace going completely mad forever.

Sometimes it doesn’t sound so terrible.