And then…

I lay in bed, with my stomach turning and my heart sinking deeper into my the deepest pit of my stomach wondering why. Why don’t you believe in me? what is it about me that makes me so unworthy of your trust? I wonder why you don’t seem to care how I’m feeling.  My soul is dying, and you don’t even seem to notice the flicker of fire  that once danced in my eyes is now just cinder.   when you’re away,  sometimes I just need a person to talk to.  Someone to distract me from the loathing i feel sweep over me when I look in the mirror. All of the broken pieces of myself at your feet, but instead of helping me scoop it up and put me back together,  you just swept those pieces under the rug.  I keep moving forward,  wounded,  hoping you’ll slow down and recognize that I’m bleeding.  I wait for you to ask me if I’m okay, but instead,  you point out my flaws, those missing pieces and imperfections.

You don’t understand nor do you want to. I just want you to care if whether or not I’m okay.  But most of all, I just want to BE okay.

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