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.
Advertisements

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.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s