Poetry

Still

“And I felt it.
What it meant
to survive.”

And I felt it. The deepest sadness, the mind-numbing pain, the violation, the degradation. I believed it was truth, deserved, and yet, I survived. Though I relive that pain daily, I’m still here, begging the universe to let me feel something else. Anything that could be defined as good, pure, and above all, something to teach me to breathe again. But for now, I’ll breathe fire, because it means I’m still alive. Still fighting.

© Sarah Doughty

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28 thoughts on “Still”

  1. Wow!! I do relate..
    When the pain hits such, the fire does storm until I’m exhausted, falling into myself in tears. Then the retreat into my own heart where heaven and peace reside. The one true place Of safety -there I am in the presence of a greater.. Love. ♥️ (hugs to you)

    Liked by 1 person

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