I pray one day, my mind won't be at war with my own health.
I won't keep lingering thoughts to collect dust on a shelf.
I'll live with a reason and without a shell.
I'll learn to live with myself.
Every breath bellows, and makes me yell into my pillow - the air around me is overwhelmed.
I've become frail, in a place I know too well.
Frail in a place I've built for myself.
Longing for a different version of myself.
Walking on Earth, but living in Hell.
