There's this pain inside of me, much worse than my mother ever warned me about.
It’s the kind of hurt that leaves you sick to your stomach, paralyzed from the neck down.
I feel it becoming a part of me.
Every time I think it's lost my trail it sideswipes me, knocking me to the ground, bruising my knees.
I fear no matter how far I run I'll never shake this feeling.
That gut wrenching ache.
That devastating realization that no matter how hard I pretend, I am not okay.
Apr 13, 2016
Apr 13, 2016 at 2:20 PM UTC
There's this pain inside of me, much worse than my mother ever warned me about.
It’s the kind of hurt that leaves you sick to your stomach, paralyzed from the neck down.
I feel it becoming a part of me.
Every time I think it's lost my trail it sideswipes me, knocking me to the ground, bruising my knees.
I fear no matter how far I run I'll never shake this feeling.
That gut wrenching ache.
That devastating realization that no matter how hard I pretend, I am not okay.
