I don't dare admit it to myself
to my friends
to my family
I'm embarrassed
ashamed
scared of what could be
I have to find ways to sneakily deal with it
without anyone noticing
I hate myself for it
I hate the way my life has gone
for not fixing it while I had the chance.
I don't know how to stop it
how to change it
I try different ways
but it doesn't do much.
The answer may require facing one of my worst fears
that other people would laugh at if they knew.
I keep secrets
even from myself.
My favorite type of writing
is when I'm in the zone
I'm typing
no hesitations
just plugging in all of my honest thoughts and opinions into my somewhat-anonymous profile
spinning deeper and deeper into my spirals
In my mind
"Thanksgiving" has warped definition
twisted and mushed and changed by lots of different people
it used to be a holiday of celebration;
now it's harsh and revealed and true
it's cruel and violent
It's cold out
it's snowing
falling slowly
steadily
reassuringly
it brings a sense of calm
the world has begun the process of renewing;
once the snow melts
it will be spring
life will return
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