What it is

What it is to feel so displaced

To feel the walls that once homed you

Now barely even hold you

The possessions that warmed you

Now barely even touch you

What it is to wade

Through the tide of uncertainty

The pain of change

The path of insecurity

What it is to hear the future is bright

When you’re adrift

Alone

Lost

What it is to feel the shift of hope

The uncontrolled rollercoaster of fear

And of loss

And of emptiness

What it is to be surprised by your own reflection

To feel remorse of your actions

To feel discouraged at each junction

What it is to have planned a life

That was never going to plan at all

What it is to have become comfortable

To have relaxed into the belief that

This is it

This will be ok

What it is to wake each day

Not knowing if you will be loved

By yourself

All the things it is, and all the things it isn’t

A balancing act that minute by minute holds you at its mercy

Engulfed in the seesaw of fight or flight

Of give up or try

Of love or lie

What it is

What it isn’t

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