Your true color is dark gray, muddy, half devoid of substance as if it couldn’t be enough. Your halo is gray and tilted to one side and I saw cracks in your demeanor. For a while I looked at myself and saw some of you reflected as I slowly turned light gray from a pure white. Your color is dark gray, beautiful, but grimy and it brings me down and I wonder what it must feel like to carry that weight with you of pouring out uncontrollably as you hold on to fragments from when you fell to the floor and shattered. I am an act of self-love, in constant motion, and ever so willing to give the little pieces of light that I hold in my hands, but I can’t share that light if all you’ll do is obscure my path.
I am a woman who already knows what she wants. I can’t sit at my kitchen table waiting when I’m in a state of perpetual motion.
Today I smiled at the thought of deserts consuming entire cities.
It’s not up to you to fix what you did not break. It’s not up to you to chase what does not want to be followed nor to lose your peace for those with no peace in their hearts.
What you’re meant to do is to live well and freely without shackles imposed on you by others. You are meant to cut the threads connecting their words to your head so that you may think truly without their hidden agendas influencing your actions.
You don’t deserve a half-baked innocence.
He thins me, to which my response is a laugh. A woman, looks at me as she overhears and laughs to which I wonder if it is part mockery. No matter, for I still maintain civility. I am small, but as the man said, a thin that will not break. Perhaps I am almost rubber band-like—my body with its refusals to fray as I spread myself out larger than she thought ever possible.
Take a deep breath and lay your head on the pillow. You’re tired from migraines and stressful conversation, yet you’re still hard on yourself. Perhaps you didn’t do enough, perhaps you just could never be enough.
Maybe there is something in this world that is screaming at you about your lack of worth. It’s not appeasing your pain and now you want to crawl under your sheets. Sleep the day away to keep this depression in your separate existence. The one you choose as real is the dream portion of your nightmare until the nightmare thrashes you awake.
How do you juggle these two worlds–Anxiety and Depression? Where are it’s lifelines rooted in?
One is a tiny, yet deep pond of movement and the other is a shallow ocean of quicksand. Somehow you’re still afloat, but you’re tiring fast. These realities of yours are being created by those that tell you that you need to hide in your parallel existences. They actually fear your brilliance and potential. They’re sending out the K-9s so that you stay in one place, either in Anxiety or in Depression and under your covers all the while. Don’t move or they’ll rip your heart out.