Glimpse

Dear Diary (Scars)

Dear diary,

Do you wince in pain when a page is folded?

Or grit your teeth at the feeling of a pen?

Why is it that some pain is temperairy, while others leave scars that last forever?

Like the ink, that can never be removed, no matter how hard you may try.

We are all hiding the scars of our past.

Which prevent us from looking to the future.

Diary, some of my wounds are so deep that even a bottomless pit is half it's size!

I'm left alone, searching for a temperairy filling for the pit in my stomach.

It's a race to the finish against me and my past.

When the pain of my past catches up with me I'm forced into a game of hide and seek.

I'm looking for Waldo in all the wrong places while life goes on ahead, finding new things to throw at me with every turn.

I try so hard to give up on giving up on every challenge that I think might be too challenging.

But diary, it's not because I'm afraid.

It's because I'm terrified.

I'm shaking in every thing I do

It's hard to go through life knowing that no one around you cares.

Were you like that? Were you the last one on the shelf, with shriveled pages and a cracked spine?

And since the world wouldnt accept you, it became clear that you were on your own?

With no one to rely on

No one who bothered checking up

With a painful bottomless pit

Using every negotiable thought

Every glowering stare

Every muinute that you felt like giving up on that stupid 'where's Waldo?' game that's been going on in your life

Diary,

I have a confession.

That's me.

And I'm terrified of tomorrow.