Tired
Anxious
Hungry
Weak
Sadness
The only things I feel right now.
Too scared to sleep.
Too scared to eat.
Too scared to be happy.
Too scared to be strong.
Too scared to go outside.
Just fear.
Not sure what to do, not sure what to say.
I just wait to write until all this crap is too much to hold on my shoulders anymore and I break down in sadness, fear, and embarrassment over not being strong enough.
Not strong enough.
Not strong enough..
Not strong enough...
I want to be strong.
I want to keep fighting this battle we call life but I'm slowly losing my grip on my strength and fall down into the void of fear, weakness, and sadness.
Just tired of fighting.
Tired of trying.
Tired of breathing.
Tired of eating.
Just tired.
Tired..
Tired...
My friends lift me up out of that void of fear, weakness, and sadness.
My sister lifts me up out of that void of fear, weakness, and sadness.
Making me happy to fight.
Happy to try.
Happy to breath.
Happy to eat.
Just happy that my story is still being written, but still in that drawer with no lock that I keep hidden from the world.
But some day I'll be ready.
Ready to share my story with the world.
I'll wait until I'm tired of hiding it and tell it to the world.
Tell about who I was and who I am now.
They make me thankful that I'm breathing.
Thankful that I'm eating.
Thankful that I'm fighting.
Thankful that I'm trying.
Just thankful that I'm alive and that my story is going on and that they're in it with me.
Don't worry, you're story can keep writing, just talk to people who love you.
I hid it, almost too long, I almost ended my story too early from hiding.
Hiding.
Hiding..
Hiding...
