Empty hollowed shell, no telling where she’ll go next, constantly carrying emotions checked out of self questioning who is this unsolicited guest.
Guessing behind barricades, troubling an exhausted spirit, longing to connect seems to fuel the long distance disconnection, reading from two different pages wondering why the stories do not match, worried about being centered around self when that’s all she has, torn between a beating heart and a thinking mind.
Searching for answers in lost happiness.
Where did it go wrong?
Voice running dry from constantly singing the same song, yearning to feel, love spiraling down the drain shit is getting real.
I realize that my own happiness is the prize even in the midst of being broken down to the core deprived.
Is love really just another four letter word or does it hold any value and weight? Is it patient, is it kind, or is it even worth the wait?
Throwing cards on the table to risk it all with my feelings at stake,
I apologize if silence is more a threat then my intentions come off as fake.
Thank you for my pen, the savior of all grace, allowing me to express anything on my brain without writing the expressions across my face, my pen is more patient and kind than love is…..listening unbiased with no judgement laced in unnecessary stress…