Auntie

It was like a hotel suite where misery strangled the air itself and everyone who breathed.
My family members moved freely,
And I could only wonder what kind of precautions went into keeping up such a happy façade,
Where people inhale misery and try to smile without feeling too crazy.
My father showed little discomfort as we entered the big, unfeeling room;
Our smiles were prepared and equipped with purpose.
We talked and laughed with our patient in the horrible room,
But I willed everything to make the anxiety go away when I left that place safely.
My family was at ease, but my mind could not cope.
My grandmother caught a glimpse of a hint and looked at me,
“Are you empathetic, little girl?”
I didn’t say so.
Somehow I was sickly addicted to the tragic feeling I had.
Somewhere in my soul I’ve always wanted to be lost and hopeless,
Where all my dreams would be shattered,
Where nothing mattered at all,
And even the slightest thing had to be beautiful.
A part of me always kept happiness just at my reach.
I would touch it for a while;
Sink into the happiness and drown in joy,
But it went away in cycles.
I needed it to if I was going to be the troubled one.
I had my dose of loneliness and regret.
I had my feeling of being lost, of wanting to leave everything.
And I liked it.
The car inside was sticky and hot.
The ride home made me feel feverish,
And I willed everything to make the anxiety go away when I left that place safely.