becoming.

by Renaada Williams

its funny how easily the monster in my head can cuddle me softly while laying in my bed.

i've been in so many pieces enough times to know how to put myself together again.

knew it would be beautiful but somehow it seemed like it would never end.

i kept going not because i wanted to trust me, all of me wanted to stop. i kept going because i deserved to know what not giving up on myself felt like.

i felt like i died at least a million times before

and i've convinced myself that no one would want to be with someone so sad like me anyway

as if talking aloud to someone that tells me everything i tell myself

we have the right to remain silent but God forbid we speak.

its okay to say nothing when n o t h i n g

is how you feel.