I stare at the mirror, my heart heavy with weighted thoughts on my mind. Haunted eyes stare back at me, full of pain and discouragement. Tears pool against my eyelids as despair begins to overwhelm me. I’m never going to be perfect...
I want to be rich. Rich in love, rich in health, rich in laughter, rich in adventure and rich in knowledge. You?
Not wild one, just a mild one
strategist | writer | reader
celebrating who God made me to be
Because we’re all recovering from something.
prose, poems, and ponderings