Little Dear 

It’s not you, it is everything.
It’s the past, it’s the future,
it’s the moments in between.

It’s the invisible weight bearing down.
The fake smiles to hide the hurt. 
The battles that can never be won. 

Round and round, the restless feeling 
where you’re constantly trying.
Battling, flailing, fighting, surviving. 

What is there left to give? 
What is left inside of me? 
What is left of me?

Be strong, little dear, for you have so much more to see. 



It was like a wave, 

dragging you down beneath the surface. 

And in that second the world stopped. 

You stopped. 

Everything changed. 

Yet no one else saw a difference. 

And things just continued as they always had.