The days feel the same

like I didn’t walk towards the light three times then rip my heart out to say goodbye to another / like I didn’t get the call that my first home and first love was about to go then have lived every day since aching to hear her speak, if only once more not in a dream / like I didn’t tear apart all my being, struggle through my worth and grief, unearth the best and worst parts of me, then heal through poetry / like I didn’t pull the jagged, assorted shards out of my flesh nightly and arranged them meticulously on a platter for the world to see / like I didn’t break through stagnant limits, chop off dead limbs that with passing time had strangled me and finally breathed new life into this sacred existence

have I really changed

Day 1: #fyourfeedchallenge

The days have been feeling eerily familiar.

This past month marked a year and just like that, I felt transported back to all the uncertainty and heartache.

It’s almost like the hundreds of days that passed hadn’t gone by at all.

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