This is my weakness, I know:
I compact my feelings in seeds and plant them
in people, lodge them in their rib cages
so they do not even know they are there,
then expect them to pollinate the buds,
nurture them until they flourish.
This is my weakness, I know:
I have expected others to carry my baggage
in their lungs and not get hurt when
they breathe into me. I invest my being
in the scars on my hands, think I do not exist
without my battles; I am always so focused on
winning that I have never tried to mend the war.
This is my weakness, I know:
I keep thinking of life as a battlefield instead
of a ceasefire.Ā I keep making lists in my head
of rightĀ vs. wrong instead of pain vs. beauty.
I keep thinking it is me againstĀ depression,
forgetting there are no sides here.
There is no one to blame.
There is no one to turn the darkness off
like a light switch, because it is not
a light switch; itās a process.
And I keep sitting in dark blueĀ waiting rooms,
waiting for someoneĀ to tell me my feelings
are valid, but my rights may be your wrongs
and thatās okay. Thatās okay because my pain
is mine and no one elseās. Thatās okay because
I donāt want to share it anymore.
There is so much hope here.
There is so much hope in working alone
to create a together.
There is so much hope in being gentle.
There is so much hope in asking for help.
There is so much hope in being fierce
and courageous and open toĀ resilience.
This is my weakness, I know:
I have become so dependent on the success
of others that I have planted seeds
in everyoneĀ but myself. But now?
Now I see gardens within my own body.
Now I refuse to postpone my mental health.
You have to want it.
You have to want recovery so bad,
but I promise it is worth it. It is worth it
even when you do notĀ feel like yourself.
That is because you are changing and growing;
you are not empty,Ā powerless, or numb.
areudirty
dailybridgerton
jimmyeatworldofficial
theartofmadeline
yousharknotpass
