I have been with my problems for so long. They are in bags and suitcases at my feet. I have opened each, sighed, and teared up at the memories which come from within. Dithering, I’m not sure which options to take. I wish someone could take the choice away from me. What’s going to set me on the path. To happy, to being fulfilled, to having a sense of belonging, my voice heard. What do I need to do. I’m not sure. Which leads to … doing nothing.
NOTES I shared my poem Why Would I Want to Follow the Lives of Famous People? with you and the response was good, so here is another poem from the yet to be finished or yet to be titled writing project I am working on. A memoir based on my health experiences with depression and anxiety.
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