..Beating her in and out. And there flying free, Her dreams escape her now. As morning sun arises, And newness hollers, "Free!" Lies the skeleton of survival, No longer needed or in need.
The character of unconditional love is a gift. It blinds us to the truth. Yet, it simultaneously exposes us to the truth.
In dreams they stay.
There is no perfect mom out there. You will never convince me there is. There is only love.
"I'm doing all I can to get through my own struggle."
Just some random thoughts in my unkept mind.
A morning of gratitude.
Depression is relentless. We struggle to overcome, and it fights to defeat us. The pursuit of our mind is that of a hunter and it's prey.
We are the voice of insanity- functioning within a cycle of repetitiveness. We flap our little flippers in hopes we never drown by the hand of a child we love.
The experts disagree, the politicians disagree, local and state municipalities disagree, and we are stuck in the middle.