reprocessing constantly

Reprocessing this mess again I try to hold it in. Fire's burning bright again, the flickering begins. So many nights I've lied awake, counting dreams to pass the time. And the clock ticks forward making me lose my mind. Choices were made for me, about me. My care, my dwelling, my life was not my own. Orphaned at a young age, I must have cried so much. No wonder I respond with tears to everything thirty years later. No wonder I respond with fear everywhere I roam. My self was my only home. I held myself the other day while I lie weeping on the floor. I imagined it was she who was holding me. I imagined it was my Мама, allowed to come take me back to love. All she ever wanted was to love me. All she ever wanted was for her twins to be rejoined. Just like it was for 9 long months. My best 9 months of life. The only time I was safe. The only time I was alive.