postpartum depression v.2

There might be a moment.
An accumulation of moments
Of questioning, noticing, lost.
Of suddenly sinking, wading, drowning.

Anxiety manifested in paranoia
Where headaches become meningitis
Spots become skin cancer
Dizziness becomes tumours.

Where minutes are counted when someone’s gone,
And an ear for sirens in the distance.
When you’re walking with visions of your head splattered on the pavement
Wondering who will take care of your babies
Because a car veered onto the path, or you tripped and fell into oncoming traffic.

There might be a time
When you look in the mirror
But you don’t really see yourself there
Disassociated, missing, aloof..
And photos of you smiling
Are without life, presence, memory

Tears like molasses
Unable to fall
When sobs find your mouth
Like you’ve resurfaced for air
Gulping it in
After being at the bottom of the sea.
And your chest feels like it’ll explode
A scream might release the pressure
But there’s no where safe to scream