On my sleeve. On a platter. In your hands, for you decide what to do with. Carrying it with me everywhere and I cannot help it getting heavier by the day.
Take me home. Take me where it is held gently by my mother the way she did when I was a child. She will squeeze me gently; a hug from her to keep me from plunging into the darkness around me.
Tunnel vision. Clinging onto my thoughts about the future like it might escape. Throwing time, money, and empty love at it, hoping something sticks. But still, I am so afraid.
Closing my eyes, seeing everything everywhere; I’m in a nightmare.
What can I do? What can I do to just be okay again? Where is the recipe for happiness? Nothing I have tried has worked, and I always figure it out. I’m supposed to be the one who can always figure it out. What does this mean for me? Am I losing myself again? Where are the instructions on how to fix this?
Command Z until my fingers ache.
About the Creator
daphne gray
just a girl in this world who thinks a lot and writes a lot and some of it makes sense and some of it doesn't. enjoy nevertheless.
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