untitled
I can’t hold my arms up anymore.
They’re suddenly the heaviest thing in the world
I can’t pick up my phone and look at another person pretending to have a better time than me.
I can’t pick up the remote and turn on a life I will never live.
I can’t pick up a book and read something I will never be good enough to write.
I can’t.
My arms are too heavy.
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What you are is enough. The world needs you as you are. We need you here. When I see your name I want to read your poem. We can never know how important we are, nor how many people we touch. Just keep reaching out. Keep writing. It makes your arms stronger ;*)