Amelie, Though you may not believe this, I know right where this poem comes from-your expression touches that place where I've been myself, and with dear friends, compatriates.
What we tell ourselves sometimes constricts the depth of what we are, what we are capable of being. How many times have I thought what damaged goods I must be, how many times have I run away from reaching out to someone who was hurting, all because I was afraid of facing my own self, my own pain. hang in there, friend, and keep writing, you do have talent. Phillip
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Amelie, Though you may not believe this, I know right where this poem comes from-your expression touches that place where I've been myself, and with dear friends, compatriates. What we tell ourselves sometimes constricts the depth of what we are, what we are capable of being. How many times have I thought what damaged goods I must be, how many times have I run away from reaching out to someone who was hurting, all because I was afraid of facing my own self, my own pain. hang in there, friend, and keep writing, you do have talent. Phillip