Bits of purple confetti cloud your vision. A vision bright and steadfast; you are the Grand Dreamer. Your aspirations fill up all of the plastic in the room. Your lungs hold an impenetrable ambition that you exhale into the atmosphere. 

But all you can think about is dying from starvation, and you’re not even actually starving. All you can think about is the ocean, and drowning in it because you wish you were so thin that the waves sucked you under and never let you breathe again.


2 thoughts on “Wayward Willing

  1. And that you pray to God not for courage to move on, not for fortitude to endure but for mercy to stop it all and bring peace through silence. I feel this too at this time. It’s been unrelenting. At this point no words bring comfort, no wise words can open doors. It’s just about holding on, even but by a little finger hoping that for one fleeting moment there may be some mercy in a universe we don’t understand. xx


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