An ending.

I am hurting. I’ve spent the last couple of months more numb then anything and now… I don’t know. And honestly… I don’t care.  It’s a sad place to be in.  There is no poetry left, and my photography has dwindled down to my iPhone. I haven’t been able to write in my leather bound journal, and I need to write privately more then in a public forum. A place where no one will read my words but me, and I  will not worry about being misunderstood. I will be able to write for me. 

Lately, I have become so worried about what someone will think about what I’m writing, I have deleted and filtered myself into silence and doubt. So much doubt. Everything feels wrong. 

I want this to be a place for honest cathartic moments, similar to stories you share over a cup of tea, or coffee, with a friend. I don’t know what to share anymore. Everyday I get to choose what I want my attitude and outlook to be, and I want to be happy and positive.  But to get to a good place, it can be exhausting and difficult and I have some bad days. So what do you say, when you want to say everything and nothing? 

I say, “Until later…” 

Scarecrow – Lukr


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