sads

Is my love not enough?

Is my body not enough?

Is my spirit not enough?

Is my independence not enough?

Is my educated mind not enough?

Are my passions not enough?

Is a future with me not enough?

Am I not enough?

I cannot breath. There are no deep deaths I can take. Every time I try, I feel like my ribs are trying to tear my lungs apart. I cannot think. There are no thoughts worth my time. Every time I try I am plagued with sorrow and doubt. I cannot continue to live this way. There is no time left for me to feel this pain. Every time I open my eyes I am in need for a change.

Am I struggling because I missed me meds, or am I just struggling?

healing-is-cool:

Hey, it’s okay. You’ve been through a lot, your mind focusing on surviving, not leaving room for much else. You haven’t lost yourself, not at all.

She is back. She has returned. She has sonnets swirling in her mind. She has so many words to share but little time to speak. So, she will write. She will find herself within her thoughts, within her imagination, within her stories. She will heal. She will thrive. She will be fulfilled.

There’s a magical curse here. It transports me back to who I was when I left. Its surreal yet eerie. Is this place a reality?

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