Peace

I say that “it’s okay,” but it’s not. 
“It” is not okay.
I am not okay.
Walking on egg shells almost every day of your life is not okay.
Constantly crying when no one else is around you is not okay.
Never believing that things are as good as they seem is not okay.
Never trusting anyone is not okay.
Hurting from losses suffered in childhood is not okay.
Being traumatized from the trials of your past is not okay.
I am not okay.
I have stretches of substantial mental health that are pierced by my anxiety and depression.
I cannot bring myself to the point where these no longer have me bound.
I am experiencing far more than I thought I was.
I am mourning a multitude of things.
Legs closed,
eyes open,
hands clasped. 
I pray for so much,
but most of all is peace.

Poet: Stefanie Parrott

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