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Scars

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There is a quiet hole within me where I go when I am not at peace; a place so deep my heart is unable to penetrate. Empty and alone on a ledge of my own creation I contemplate my future or as it feels, the lack thereof. I collect only calculated memories to replay reinforcing my anxieties; seeing only my mistakes and regrets and leaving behind successes and accomplishments making them meaningless and insignificant.

This is often my mirror, the only one I am willing to see; the glass filled with failures and pain, opening old scars and revealing them to prove to myself I am not enough no matter my reputation or how many affirmations I repeat.

My greatest nemesis; my own mind
My biggest defeat; the fantasy of my imminent failure.

Namastè

 

©NicholeDonjè


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