I’m still struggling.
Still stuck in this place
Because “I will never have anything to do with you”
And he’ll make sure
But you is me and me is you when enmeshed in therapy
It’s overwhelming
Life
My dreams and aspirations
And somehow just writing still helps
It’s better then the image of a gun to the head
Even though that gun is just for cleaning
“Do you really think that”
Asks Dr. She when I tell her “at least if she has she’s in a better place”
Because I know that God will still love her
Why keep fighting?
I sometimes wonder
Just so Dr. She can feel like a hero?
These are thoughts that go through my head
And they bother me
Especially since I am so much more level
...slow...
Sometimes it is taking too long to recover
And I am not worth the fight
So I write
No comments:
Post a Comment