a tired heart.

what is it with those tears that come with each time God is remembered, and some ethereal tie to the infinite is reignited. what is it with this tired heart that has forgotten how to dream and has grown old with all the tribulations it has been through.

it’s been a tough transition. I haven’t had time to be without the constant chatter of my mind and all of the useless negativity it throws on me.

I feel so alone sometimes. so alone in my healing. so alone in wanting to reach out for the dreams that made me who I am. so alone in not feeling good enough or worthy enough to shine. 

but I at least feel good about something— I feel good about having left it all behind and took all those serious decisions, despite the whirlpool of happenings peeling my skin sore. I feel good about the endless rivers of kindness in my heart. I feel good about be willing to give every single thing I have for everyone else. 

it was my choice, in the end. there is so much I need to deal with. the insane pains in my body. all the ways I’m not perfect enough. all the lists of skills and ambitions weighing down on me, waiting to be touched somehow, but not knowing when and how.

it’s just my tired heart, emerging from all the toxic darkness it was in. I need to believe that I’m a warrior for having made it with all this compassion and empathy in my heart. I want to believe that I’m actually a good person. I want to have faith that I’ve been chosen for a great life despite it looking so grey and muddy every time I choose to look at it. the uncertainty of the future is killing me, and here I am so out of control, being tossed with the winds of so much change, so many foreign territories.

I want to believe that this heart of mine has goodness inside.