Life leaked out my finger tips
It was a sloppy puddle of mush
leaving only a carcass of skin slabbed on bone
Like a chicken on a cheerful walk to the slaughterhouse
emptied
mindless
and tired
-Saschia
Puddle of Life
Posted byJaynePosted inPoetryTags:anxiety, art, creative writing, depression, Jayne.press, poem, Poetry, prose, writing
Published by Jayne
Jayne is a writer. On her free time she likes to be with her family hiking outdoors and traveling. New England is her home and place of birth. When asked what she wants to teach the world she replied, "Don't stop searching. Too many times, in my old life, I put my search aside for more 'important matters.' I didn't realize the thing I was searching for held what was most important; my soul purpose." Jayne works daily on improving her craft and at times can get down on herself, but her favorite morning mantra is "It's a new day." and that's what she strives to start with. View more posts
Jayne.press 
I’m going to be honest, I have been feeling this way recently. Holding on and trying so hard to keep believing… I don’t know how not to but it’s tempting. Trusting there will be some major turnaround this month.
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Oh no I’m sorry you are feeling like this. It’s not a comfortable place to be. But I think it’s an art to hold on. A beautiful thing worth capturing. I hope your turnaround comes soon.
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Thank you! I do too!
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