Even if it is Tattooed

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By Sam's mom, Gina, on a bad day (which we all have sometimes)


I'm sliding

The slick platform is one I can't handle.

The tar is cozy and it pushes me down further.

I want to be the strength of the mine, but I am afraid I can't be any longer.

The toll is real.

For so long, I have been the ranger convincing myself that things will be okay.

As I sit here, I still believe they will be.

What what will become of me?

Easy is not what I want.

I want to breathe, like really breathe.

Things working out only goes so far.

A long way in my mind, but not in the others.

I feel like a liar.

Be You. It's tattooed on my arm for God's Sake.

But what I say in those interviews are not the truth sometimes.

He is okay, but okay comes with unfairness and fucking pain.

Screaming from the mountaintops, be okay, would

feel great, but moot at this point.

My chest burns with screams because I can't fix it.

I never did.

~Gina Mitchell

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