When I’m outside of my bubble
I sure wish I could be glad,
but each day for me is a struggle.
The anxiety gets bad.
I stop to catch my breath.
Is there life still to be had?
I’m not afraid of death.
But when my eyes begin to sparkle,
I want to look away.
Instead, I force myself to marvel,
and relish in the day.
After all the pain and all the sorrow.
Stored residual trauma, in a pile.
Is there still a promise in tomorrow?
Special memories bring out a smile.
Making space, tearing down my wall,
for an investment that’s worth my while.
Let’s hope it happens, after all.
© 2023 Jessica D.
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