It seems I only come to you when I feel hopelessly overwhelmed, more as a sort of last alternative than anything else. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't find comfort in those rare moments when I do turn to you. Tomorrow scares me. I'll be going around, facing what I can only imagine as a seemingly endless torrent of rejection. I can just see the looks on their faces right now: either apathetic or disdainful, but always simply cold. I wish tomorrow would never come, that somehow I could just stay in this moment for just a bit longer.
Lately, I've been losing sleep, again. It seems those demons have finally caught up with me. And all I have is this chipped blade and this decrepit armor, totally useless. The last time that I hit the trough, I cried out to you and I remember that, soon afterwards, there was a definite sense of peace. Something was able to melt away those choking anxieties. I pray that you would be with me again, if only for a just a little bit longer until I get over this all too familiar hurdle.
Ah, me of little faith. In retrospect, maybe I shouldn't let these little waves throw me into such disarray.
No comments:
Post a Comment