11/8/21
Lately, I've preferred sad music and closed curtains.
My thoughts run wild in my mind, growing, and becoming hard to contain.
My lips betray my mind, and my secrets tumble out, spilling onto the floor.
Concern laces her face, and a flicker of understanding flashes in her eyes.
Help is offered. I'm grateful, really.
But I'm too afraid to tell her that I'm afraid.
The truth is terrifying. What if I'm part of the 25%?
I feel like something's wrong with me, but I can't place a label on it until I get help.
Ignorance is usually bliss, but not in this case.
So I accept the help, accept that I might be a percentage, and accept my true self.
Like they always say, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.
