And suddenly I realised that I’d been concerned with how everyone around me felt, how they perceived me, and it was truthfully the very reason why my soul cried from the depths of my skeleton. My soul- spread thin like too little/not enough butter on a very dry and hardened slice of toast.

My soul ached to not be constantly battered by the wrongs humanity impose on each other. Feeling it all and keeping a calm head on your shoulders- it whittles you down with time- until the roots of strength you’d sworn kept you grounded begin protruding from the earth choking on each other and they themselves getting battered by the world outside which has left you so worn.

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