Handle With Care

I have an urge to flee, to take to the road and visit far off places. I want to go so far I am away from myself, though that is not humanly possible. I want to stop feeling so much in such an unfeeling world. I want to be as numb as the people, places, and things surrounding me. I don’t want to see and know anymore all the things that my heart sees and registers and calculates well before the answer is officially brought forth. I am tired in a way that I cannot put into justifiable words. I have a deep rooted pain that aches all the way down into the heart of my ancestors. My soul feels like it is in a state of limbo forced to be in my body and begging to be free all at the same time.

I always said hope was the main thing to never lose but what if hope is buried so deep you can no longer find it. What happens in the times when hope is fleeting it glimmers and teases you and goes out before you can grasp on to it. What if even the bees and the plants feel complacent resigned to whatever until whenever. Everything feels dull and lackluster. I can not find peace even within my dreams and so where is it I wonder, where have so many fragments of me been left strung about for miles and miles, where have they gone.

I do not feel the shine in smiles or kind words anymore, finding myself questioning the honesty behind it all. I want to be handled with care and gently as if my body has fragile written all over it in red. Because for as strong as I am and determined I am fragile in my own way. I have been handled so haphazardly for so long that I am fractured and delicate at the hands and hearts of others.

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Published by izzysconfessions

I was born and raised in the smallest of towns in Southwest Virginia. A town that is extraordinarily active, yet a town that is like it's very own little mini Bible belt. My dad was Baptist, my mom pentecostal, and I'm paranormal. I would venture to say it is somewhat of a family trait. One that is met with equal acceptance and curiosity as much as it is met with skepticism. Individually and collectively so much has been experienced and witnessed at times to such a degree that one might wonder how on earth there is room for doubt. I dont have all the answers, I do not have it all figured out. Im as human as everyone else relying heavily many mornings on a lot of coffee and a little Jesus. In fact, I can't decide what I want for dinner most days. One constant is I cannot go a single day without chocolate. Pour a cup of coffee, or a little tea and whiskey and join me in my confessions of a haunted freak.

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