This is a personal documentation through poetry.
I am learning to look inward now, give myself love when I least want to. I do not live to love others, I live to love myself. I will find and create what is enough for me, and you will learn to let it...
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I'm torn between choosing a familiar pair of arms, Or choosing none at all. There is an unaccustomed air around the lack of contact, but I know what it means. And I know what I need. It just becomes increasingly difficult to ignore the crevices in my brain that scream at me Turn around. It would be so easy. And while it's not entirely wrong that it would be easy to fall back into a bullshit habit, To fall back into those stupid arms, It is utterly self destructive. And I always end up at this conclusion after I ride the high of their attention. Moving forward is my only option, It is the only one that will keep me happy. No person or thing ever will. Nothing else has sustained.
