Write. Revise. Delete. Write. Revise. Delete.

The slow, shy tears of heaviness from an abused child slip out of hiding and slide down my face. I do not feel them.

I am overwhelmed. All the monsters visit me, day and night. I can feel no more.

But I can not ignore the ones who ask to hold on. To find peace.

I do not know who to believe. I just know I’m too tired for life .