Life isn't for the light hearted,
nor the vain,
Life is tough and it pulls all of your strings until you unravel yourself into millions of threads,
Millions of shreds, waiting to be a part of something,
Wanting to belong somewhere.
Trying to have a home,
knowing you will never find a home.
Life breaks your heart repeatedly and like an abusive relationship you turn back to it and try it again,
But you fail again.
It makes you fragile on the inside,
Feeling things that you never imagined you would,
the heaviness your heart feels is all too real in so many ways,
You try to alleviate it in any way you can,
Yet you can't.
Life is that bad habit you just can't get rid of,
Life is all the hard years in your life but only remembering and living off only a few, very scarce, good memories.
The pain is felt forever,
But you choose to forget.
About the Creator
Jessica Sanchez
Currently trying to juggle a job, motherhood and my responsibility as a mother
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More stories from Jessica Sanchez and writers in Poets and other communities.
Every EP Mom Has a Story
"Waah, waah," your eyes fill with tears as you hear your baby cry for the first time. The moment you have been waiting for has finally arrived. Your bundle of joy so small and fragile as they place him in your arms. For just a second, time stands still as your child looks at you and your heart fills with such love and an overwhelming feeling to provide and protect that child for as long as you shall live. You are tired, but at that time, in that place none of that matters to you. Time passes, your child is hungry, "Waah" he shouts again and again, you, eager to provide food for your child quickly try to latch him onto your breast. "Waah, waah, waah" he cries in frustration refusing to latch. "I must just be doing it wrong," you think to yourself, you try again, "WAAAH, WAAAH." You feel defeated, emotional, frustrated, and begin to prepare a bottle. You're thinking that the only important thing is to have your child fed.
By Jessica Sanchez6 years ago in Families
In The Blink of Her Eye
Time itself bent and morphed, allowing Shannon the precious seconds needed to see and adjust to the disaster unfolding in front of her. Each frame showed minute details she would have missed had the clock not slowed down until she heard every click of the hands as they swept toward the end of everything. If only she was being melodramatic...
By Lisa VanGalen4 days ago in Fiction
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