she’s starting to feel the familiar tick,
the tension building around her neck,
tears rising up from covered depths,
“take your pills, baby, your brain is a mess”
victories seem like anxious what ifs,
when she meets them, her mind starts to drift,
to crevices that never left,
she entertains them like a long lost guest,
when fighting ahead brings on too much stress,
her flame is her power and inner weakness,
she can’t tame the fury that burns in her chest,
fire and floods, all in the same breath,
conflicted, pillows engulf her weary head,
mocking her need for meaningful rest,
and when she does sleep, come nightmares instead
of comforting dreams, while she lay in her bed.

Emily ©

Photo Credit: Unknown

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