The reason I have made it this far,
Is not because I am coping or feeling even close to okay,
But because in those fleeting moments where I can almost touch happiness
I realise that, eventually, those moments will be everyday and the ones of severe emptiness will be the fleeting ones.
So when I think about escaping, I think about how nothing is permanent;
Contrary to what this illness makes me want to believe.
-by holly boyd
YOU ARE READING
Words We Cannot Speak
PoetryPoems; Woe and hope, love and despair Poems mend us, they repair. Broken souls mixed with broken minds, Poems teach us what it is to be alive. They offer thoughts to inspire. They give us hope to aspire, They answer unanswerable questions They offer...
