I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am, I am, I am.
How we need another soul to cling to.
The heart dies a slow death, shedding each hope like leaves until one day there are none. No hopes. Nothing remains.
I put my heart and soul into my work, and I have lost my mind in the process.
A kind gesture can reach a wound that only compassion can heal.
I’m not okay.