An Honest Conversation With A Friend

Most days it feels like the end of the world.
Like I am the only girl stuck in a downward spiral,
screaming but never heard. Pleading
and barely breathing, hoping that the God I believe in saves me.
Most days I feel incomplete.
Like God’s biggest joke, someone’s reluctant Plan B strategy-
I am lost.
And grieving.
And being, 
simply being,
is too painful.

About onewritersheart

I love to be myself . . . whatever that means. But seriously, I love to write, laugh, and lounge around the house when my schedule isn't too crazy. I have five tiny humans: three nephews and two nieces. I am the youngest of five, and a twin. Lastly, I am awesome and I love myself.
This entry was posted in melancholy, Poetry, Short Poem, Spilled Ink, Words, Writing. Bookmark the permalink.

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