Therapy

What is it when I just listen to people who are struggling to cope with life, is my brazened energy enough to liven their spirits or is it that mine needs to calm down.

I cried, it was awful.

My mom wants there to be every pill in the world to pin me down to be something I am not. Something chained. I am not a demon in this body, I am not the mold that grows on trees to be chopped down. I am the leaves and seeds blowing in the wind, trying to find better homes than the ones they've been.

I need to go, but where is the wind?