The Weathered Life

I live a weathered life. I'm weathered and worn from experience after experience. I've been tossed, turned and torn to pieces but somehow I manage to continue in this life. I've been walked on like a welcome mat but I'm still here. I'm not complaining about it, just placing it somewhere new.

I try to think of excuses for those who hurt me but why? What's the point? I think most people have good intentions. I think circumstances change situations. She had a lot of classes. She was busy with work. There was someone else she's been talking with. She doesn't have a lot of time. Sometimes I really treat myself with very little respect. I tear out a section of my heart knowing it will grow back. Do I do this to others? Then why should I do it to myself.

The main reason I had for writing this post was the new artwork included in it. I'm not really down. I have feelings that run the gamut. Don't run to me with words of sympathy. Still, I don't want to be ignored but it's so hard for me to say. It's easier to write down. I struggle to write myself up. But you, my friend, keep your head up.