When does it end? or should I say when does the happiness begin? I yearn for a world where you can feel like you belong
Forced Realities
Comfortably Uncomfortable Spaces Places and Masks as faces Territorial Forces Imagined enemies Give me a space Give me a place Give me
Mercy Killing
I was sooo tired, but it was a good type of tired I had helped love the animals at the local shelter it made me
My Mind, A Dangerous Place
A Place, my place A place where I fit A place I can hide A place that’s mine I would cover it with colors of
Identity
Growing up was not fun for me I guess I had a chemical imbalance and saw the world as sad, and threatening I did not
Am I worthy?
Originally posted on Post-Modern Humanity:
I remember a really crucial turning point in my own recovery from cptsd was in early 2015, just about half…
