Sometimes I think too much, feel too much.

Sometimes the world is heavy, and cruel.

Sometimes just breathing is the most complex activity I need to get myself to do.

Sometimes, when I wake up in the morning I can’t find it within me to get out of bed, and do the normal things every human does, like washing my face, or brushing my teeth, or preparing myself breakfast.

Sometimes, just being is exhausting.

Sometimes it’s hard.

And sometimes it hurts.

And sometimes you’ll fall, and you’ll break.

But still, you’ll keep being.

Still, you’ll keep trying.

And still, you’ll live.