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Courage

Nobody said it was easy.

By Nicolette HeislerPublished 6 years ago 3 min read
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Downcast soul, what have you become? You've been wearing this mask for too long and now it is stuck on my face like a shitty song in my head. I'm living in this tragic, yet silver lining of a whirlwind feeling like a meal for wolves. But really, what am I here for? I do not want to follow the rules and I sure as hell do not want to be stuck in this cell. I feel like my whole body is wrapped with a python and leeches are on my heart. When will this ache stop and my exhausted body become full again? I don't know who I am anymore, must be the trauma, it's a start. I won't pick up the phone. I lie and say I'm not home. What kind of friend am I? They don't know I lay with demons. My heart is gold, my body is dead, my mind is racing. How am I even standing? If you knew the real me, would you run, would you fly with me? Locked in these handcuffs with the key just far enough for me to miss it.

You truly want the best for me, but nothing could be worse than that. The more you give, the less I want your help, the more you love me, the less I care. Far from a beauty queen, and I don't intend on acting like one. I want to be a lioness, a lover, a giver, a friend. All of these voices in my head like a Mandrake are going to make me go bald. Maybe I should run away, pack up, far away. Kicking my problems are going to break my foot and they ain't no pebbles that's for damn sure. I can't help you and it kills me inside. Do this, it will make you better, take this, it will fix you, act like this, put on a face. For so long I hated when you "told" me what to do, but you poured your heart out, tried to help. I didn't want to listen. They say you can't love others until you love yourself. I guess I love too hard, too fast, until it aches when I don't fully love myself. I'm just trying to figure it out. Maybe I'm loving in the wrong way. I love you, no matter what, even when I was a bitch, or not listening, or not picking up the phone.

I don't want to hide anymore. This stained dress is thrown away and I'm learning to sew my heart back together. I'm the one that broke it in the first place. I've wasted so much time being lonely and not enough time being alone. I'm strong but I felt so weak for so long and there's no more room for little miss meek. I have seen a little green light of energy at the end of the tarnished tunnel. I’m tired of bleeding just to know I am alive and tired of not accepting this moment of chaos. There’s beauty in pain and tragedy. Sometimes there’s more darkness than light, but that light is more powerful than any darkness. Even if that light is as small as a mustard seed, all it takes is to find it, and store it in your deluminator. Then you can give a little of that light to someone else, and realize the debauchery going inside EVERYONE’S heads. Everyone has a little Jesse Pinkman inside of us, seeking for truth and freedom from the chains we have around our ankles. Look what happened to him. You are your own avenger.

healing
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