I am aware that this place is mainly for Poetry. From what I have come across at least.
I found myself in a sudden state where I wanted to type whatever came to mind. No better place for people to read my writing. I am not looking for comments, I am not looking for feedback. I want a place to write where people don't know who I am. This was the only place I could think of.

Days draw in and out. It becomes harder to breathe. It becomes harder to see. Your image blurs in your own mirror, as your face becomes someone you no longer recognize. Cliche, maybe, but sometimes, there's no better way to explain it, right? Cliche's are a cliche for a reason. That, I can not argue. As your day closes in, your bed turns itself to a grave that you can't wait to engulf yourself in. your sheets look better when they're messy, your pillow looks better when it's fluffed, and that huge down comforter warms your skin by just a glance towards its direction. That's a place for tears. It is a place for fear. For comfort. For rage. You can hide under your sheets because no one sees you there. 
It's funny how when you look at the bigger picture, it all comes down to every one needing an inspiration at some point in their life. Humans can not live alone. They can not strive on just themselves. We need a reason to live. We need a reason to breathe. To fight to the death is an understatement that not many people can believe in. It's an energy that's passed around like a hot potatoe on a mission. Inspiration can come in many forms. People even. Shit, maybe even pets. Oh, how they look at you with such innocent eyes. Completely oblvious to our lives. Yet somehow, we strive to be of them because to be one of them, means to not be where you are. Sometimes to wake up in the morning is a question in itself. But we all know the wanting to sleep. To hit snooze and carry on with dreams, just because it's not facing your every day, dreadful reality. Right? I get lost once in a while when I turn my head away for just one second. It's frustrating, to say the least, that when I pull my eyes away, my heart sinks in thousands of directions. Hey, at least I have strength to lift those buckets and empty that unnecassary water that's drowning me. But how? How am I able to lift those buckets? How is it, that on a day where my life seems meaningless, I find the courage to carry on? How do you? What makes you strive? What becomes of you when you feel at your darkest? What is created inside you that makes you get back up on your own two feet? I'm not going to give my answer. Nor do I want to hear yours. It's merely just an observation to take a look at your own mirror, and figure out exactly where this inner strength comes from. Perhaps it's the Bible, Christ alone. Perhaps it's the simple phrase, "When you fall, get back up." Is it that youtube video you just watched of someone sharing their life story, so that gave you inspiration to kick on? What about those books sold in stores that tell you how to not give up? Whatever it may be, whatever it is, is it working properly? Are you so transfixed on those articles, those books, those speakers, that you forget to think for yourself? We have so many ways, so many people telling us how to think, how to live, how to succeed, how to make money, give money, live happily, do right, don't do wrong, how to have great sex, great relationships, what makes the perfect wife, husband, friend, partner, yadda yadda, how are we ever able to think for ourselves these days when our faces are being shoved with people constantly telling us how to live? What's your opinion? Don't stand down on what you believe in. Ever. Find what that is. Find who you are. Not your hobbies, or what you enjoy. I'm talking about that red, beating heart that pumps blood throughout your body. That heart. What does it want? What does it stand for? Be true to yourself. Always. 

-Amelia.