Autumn is my favorite time of year and the trees in the park are the perfect shade of orange and I couldn’t pass up shooting there yesterday morning. x
The mornings are gray, and it takes me a few moments to realize I’m still alive.
My bed has become my confidante. She knows all of my rage and my fears and my longings. And yet she doesn’t judge me for it, she envelopes me in her soft arms.
The days are long and my throat is scratchy. There are times I wonder if I’m still breathing.
My body has become my enemy. My skin has waged it’s wars, leaving me battle scarred and lonely. And the pain is too great, I fear the ache will tear me to pieces.
The nights are dark and I cannot sleep. My dreams are scattered and my heart is still tired.
My eyes wear dark halos, because I am only half angel and demon. Afraid to wake, afraid to breathe, afraid to let go and afraid to give in.
(Still here. Still gasping. Still weary.)
(Still wondering if I’ll ever be who I used to be.)
still here. (via shelteredwillow)