When will I be happy again? Oh when will it be. I wake up motivated and putting in the work to be a better me, Everday. I feel like I’m drowning but one day I will blossom again.
The fruits of my labor will show again. To that I say amen. To that I say yes I will make it to the happy end. To that I say I will be proud of myself again.
I don’t need an applaud from the crowd to feel whole, I don’t need validation to feel whole. I want to press on and find better. A better life, a fresh start something that won’t fall apart. Something that won’t sneak up and break my heart. Something that won’t tear me apart.
I need a guardian angel to tell me I’m doing well, to tell me the path I’m choosing will not bring me through hell, to hold my hand and tell me all is well and I’ll make it.
I’m a flower, I may wither sometimes even in this hour, dry up to nothing but I will blossom again to something. Something because I hate feeling nothing.
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Reaching Out
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By Christy Munson3 days ago in Fiction
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