How much of what I thought was solid has melted? The world below my feet a sheet of ice with water on top. It’s hard to get my footing. It’s hard to feel safe. So I slide about. No longer certain where to go. Only that I have to stop myself from falling.
And I need all the reasons I can find not to hate myself. But it’s hard. Even the idea makes me shiver. Because I see loving myself like looking down on others. Riding around on a high horse. And I never want to think I’m better then the people I see on the street. The ones who have it rough. The ones who don’t fit in. The ones I see my own face in.
<3
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