"Next time your heart seizes up and feels two sizes smaller,
don’t wrap it up with layers upon layers of comfort and faux warmth.
Let it burn.
Let it hurt.
Let it cry.
Don’t close up your chest and sew your heart back together,
stitching your cries with remorse from others.
Let those burning tears fall from your eyes and
those screams spill from your mouth.
Too often we cry with our hands over our mouths
and breathe without air in our lungs.
We turn to silence. We drown ourselves in a pool of misery silently.
We stuff fists into our chest, hoping they’ll burst into our skin
and clamp around our hearts, craving for the pain to go away.
Let it burn. Let it hurt. Let it cry.
Then let it heal."
Literally crying. I hate growing up and having to move on. I don’t want to sit here and decide which child and teen memories I have to throw in these trash bags and what few things I get to take with me to my new place. Worst part is that I thought I would have some help but that someone forgot. So here I am in the corner of an old room full of old memories being forgotten as I’m forgetting. Something so depressing about it all :/