Evening

There’s this feeling where you don’t want to lift your arms because what’s the point, 

You don’t want to go to sleep because you know that means the morning will come and you’ll have to face everything again 

Time passes more swiftly for those living at peace, the days flow easier, at least so it seems. 

It’s scary not knowing how you’ll climb out of a black hole 

What do you do when people reach their hand towards you, and you’re just too heavy to pull up

What do you do when that happens over and over,

You rely on yourself to get out, of course 

But what do you do when things keep stepping on your fingers every time you reach the edge.

Exhausted from explaining myself, and wishing nothing more than to curl into my own soul for eternity, where I could be safe, left undisturbed.

There’s hopeless, and then beneath it there’s this

Alyssa Rose Franco is a writer from San Diego. She has a passion for artistic things, and is paving the way for her dog Buffy and her baby boy. She writes about those things that one feels deeply but finds difficult to describe.

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