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MORURNING THE DEATH OF ME
I’ve spent the past few days mourning the death of me.
The person inside who enjoyed dancing naked in her living room with the windows open.
The person who would sit down and write a poem or short essay just to write.
The person who was sometimes devastated over life’s little battles, but bounced back.
The person who read and studied her bible every night, kept a tidy, organized house. Prayed daily fro her unborn child, and still made it to work on time everyday without fail.
The person who did laundry and dishes. People could come over on a whim, and I wouldn’t be ashamed or embarrassed.
Now I am no longer here. The me in me has died. Replaced by a depressed procrastinator who’s lost their place in life with their goals and dreams. Taking five steps back every time one step is made forward.
Yes, I’m mourning the death of me, and I need a resurrection.
