Dear Me,
What do you want from this life?
That question pushes you out of bed.
Too many days are spent there.
Numb.
Gobbled up by the pain.
Rupturing my behavior.
Anxiety raises my temperature.
Burning me alive.
Breathe life back into me.
Poetic society.
Take my hand.
Come with me.
Travel.
Break free.
Seeing.
Believing.
Turning manifestations into reality.
Changing.
Re-arranging.
Me.
You’ve been thinking about your life.
Who you used to be.
The things you once had.
What you don’t realize is you are still who you used to be.
You are just a different kind of me.
XoXo- Me
