Broken Records. A foreign phrase to many. They play the same song plus over and over and over... No end. Mind goes mad. Questions come: "really?" "not enough already?".

My silence, nothing but a desperate (futile) attempt to disappear. But I am found under the mud and grime. I am lifted. By unseen faces. Fed by vaguely familiar people who have done this before.

I must- no, I vow, to rise up again; to be well so that I may write your stories. Lift you from the mud. Wipe away all that dulls your shiny, sparkly self. I will receive the healing, stronger again. I promise to help lift you, carry you, shout from the plains until your story is finally heard.

I may be undone, but I am not done.

Do not let yourselves be dismayed.

Look up, where help comes frrip

Comment on this Post

Comments

Yes, falling and rising, getting close to exit and turning back with full force - that's the spirit to aim for, to have and to pass on. Love!

Stella Paul Twitter: @stellasglobe