The Cycle

After I have buried myself, I claw at the soil, undoing my handy work. I dig myself out, just to bury myself again. This is the cycle. I brush myself off, water myself to grow. Self care. Until I am mad at myself again. And it starts. I begin digging the hole. Crawling back in. …

A Shell.

A shell. That is what it feels like. I’m curled up within the shell looking out and screaming. But I’m somehow looking at the shell at the same time. Still screaming. Help…help….help me. Please. I am crying and smiling, laughing and dying. Screaming and talking. Begging for help and pushing people away. I am helpless, …