Enough.

 

Digging deep for wells of courage, I come up with rocks and bits of clay. No glowing gems, or joyful memories. Nothing to nourish and restore me.

The pain of being sick stings, but my loneliness is agonizing. The world continues to spin on it’s axis. People go to and fro, engaged in their lives, while I lay motionless, encumbered by my physicality.

In unending circles I travel, through my tired brain, trying to illuminate feelings that recede at once, into darkness.

The vast emptiness within me drowns out my small voice. It hunches me over, and draws me inward, in an effort to protect my aching heart.

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