used to be a comfort for her
but now it's - what?
a house with a bed with little joys
but it's not the same as it used to be
is it?
someone once told her
'i can tell you're suffocating a bit'
and that phrase has stuck with her
come back to her every now and then
the more things happen the more
she realises they're right, she is
suffocating, stuck, struggling
to hold on and be who she is, who she wants to be
now she sits up in bed
they're still there, they're happy
but she isn't, she's uncomfortable in
her own skin, it just doesn't fit
she doesn't like who she is
when she's there, she feels like
it's the old her and she doesn't want that
not anymore
but isn't it ungrateful to
not appreciate everything she has
why want more, people would ****
for what she has
and yet, she wants to write her
own story, own beginning, start
her chapter, her legacy,
her family
im back with more non-poetry, just a thought dump with random line breaks
