One day, I'll get out of the box I've put myself in. One day, I'll dance again. One day, I'll say every thought that comes to mind while we're driving in the car. One day, I'll be who I was before I let those in my immediate world put out my fire. I'll find her again. My true self. I'm okay with this hope.
One day, I'll be able to give a disclaimer, "Hey, I'm looking for myself, my true self. when I find her again, I might become a little too much for you. And that's okay if so, you can go. I'm holding this space for the ones who will hold space for the real me. Take care!" and my internal world will still be thriving as they walk away. Because I'll know what comes next.
𓇢𓆸
YOU ARE READING
Paracosm
Poetry{PAR-uh-kahz-um} (n.) A detailed imaginary world created in the mind, often as a means of escape or solace, filled with its own people, places, and stories. | this book is quite the contrast. I shared my thoughts a really long time ago. I'll start...
