People love setting a limit for you when they don’t even know the half of you. I know you’re tryna push and be supportive but you gotta know when to listen. Cause I’m here screaming and telling you I’ve had enough and I can’t do shit no more and you’re saying “God doesn’t give us more than what we can handle.”

I don’t know what I believe in, I don’t have things all figured out. Fuck it, I’m only a child. Don’t expect greatness from me. Don’t expect me to be perfect.

How do I know what is real and what is not? How do I know what to believe if I’ve only ever known one thing? How dare you, from a place of comfort and peace, having no tortured dare you try to tell me how to live? How dare you try to make me have faith? You don’t know the half of what goes on in my head. You don’t know how I lay awake at night, every light I have burning and shining because I can’t fall asleep and I’m terrified of the darkness.

Do you know nature sounds scare me? Do you know I once climbed up in my wardrobe for hours because it made me feel safe? Do you know how unsafe I feel walking down the street? Yes, you are just trying to help but enough is enough. You don’t know. That is the point. You don’t know me. You don’t get to decide what I need. Maybe I need a minute. Maybe i need a year. I should take it. I should take the breath of fresh air I desperately need but I can’t. Not without feeling guilty that I abandoned my duties. My ‘service’. I can’t be happy without feeling guilty.
I thought the sadness was temporary. But maybe the happiness is temporary. Or maybe this is normal. Is it? Do you think? Do you also cry to bed at night because life overwhelms you? Am I in this alone? Are you here too? No one talks. Hmm. No one talks about being broken.