Me.

So many options... only one decision. What to do, what to do? I can get guidance but ultimately it’s up to me what I do. I’m the one responsible for me. I am my own. I am my sun, I am my rain. I am my biggest enemy and my best friend. I tear myself down and I build myself up. I have to live with myself at the end of the day. If I want your opinion, I’ll ask. I worry about me because I understand that at the end of the day, it’s me who decides what I do and when. I understand that at the end of this life – I’ll look back at what I did and didn’t do; what I said or didn’t say, but I won’t be pointing my finger at you. You should worry about you and don’t be concerned with me. You aren’t responsible for me; I don’t report to you, I don’t even really like you to be honest. You put your nose where it doesn’t belong and then wonder why I don’t give you the time of day? I don’t think so. Think what you want about me, judge me how you want, but at the end of the day your opinion doesn’t mean anything to me. You don’t define me. I do. I render you powerless. I call your bluff. What now? I decide. Me.

My heart is heavy and the days are long.

My heart is heavy, the days are long and my eyes are weary. I grow tired of growing old so fast. No rest for the wicked seems to be the truest statement of these days. I’ve exhausted all that I once had and now I don’t know what I’m left with. After the shaking, there’s always a settling. Leave time to find out what’s left, what’s whole, what’s trash… I will be thankful for that which remains. I will be thankful for that which remains. That which remains will not be breakable or shakable. It cannot be left. That which remains is just that… It will stand fast, it will be steadfast; it will be.

Stone cold silence surrounds me. Anger burns in their eyes, oh how the anger burns. It penetrates into my soul and I don’t know what to do. I’m not sure how to handle it. I’m immediately taken back to when I was a child and my confrontation issues. It always horrified me. You’ll leave when you’re angry and I don’t know if you’ll come back. I don’t want to be alone again…. Too many times, I had my Everything walk away and I refuse to give a second chance for that to happen. So I stay distant, because I don’t trust well; not after something so traumatic. Eventually people reach their breaking point, and I never know which mistake will cause you to reach yours with me. I try to stay perfect, but deep inside I know that’s not who I am.

Look. Look at yourself. What do you see? I see a girl. I see a girl who is broken and confused. She tries with all her might to put herself together and make it through a day. Day after day, it’s a battle. It’s a battle she just can’t seem to win. I see a girl who tries so hard to be there for everybody else but is never there for herself. I see a girl who is fragile. I see a girl made of glass, terrified to let anyone know because she doesn’t want to be broken again…