As I sit here alone, the sadness is building. This is when I start to question all of my feelings. Are the choices I'm making what's meant to be? Am I simply holding on to something that's supposed to be set free. I war with myself because I love so hard. If I could draw my heart, I'm sure it would be bruised and marred; with scars from people I held dear, a long healed wound for each and every tear. Nothing changes, no, things stay the same. One day I'm happy, the very next I'm not. Though I still try to be thankful for all that I've got. I constantly wonder if I'll ever make it out of this mess, if I'll ever live without sadness and stress. How am I supposed to stop this depression, if everyone around me continues to feed it. It's as if they don't even know what they're doing. Maybe they do, and just don't care enough to change it.
© Malissa Nau