We Are A Mess; We Are Failures.

Dear Troubled Self,

I can feel it in the way that you now walk down the street you are poised and ready to break into a sprint in the direction that is less crowded by these constant demands. Though your eyes are cast down in seeming humility and the willingness to please, your resolve is set straight and you have never been so full of spirit. It breaks you down that you are forced to stay within yourself, when the very last thing you wish to do is feel bound to the pain that plagues you. It tears you apart that you are being forced to stay stagnant and silent. I understand and it hurts me too. I see your pulse lacking the life that drives you, but your posture has never failed before so dare not let your spine slack and your feet drag now. Refuse that instinct inside you that is yearning to cut yourself from those that love you and struggle through the haze of melancholy. Let those tears you so stubbornly ebb, spill so that you may purge the polluted edges of your soul and once again see that you are always wild and free.

Sincerely,
Your Inner Peace