Don’t tell me

Don’t tell me to move on.I’m fucking sore inside.Today, I want to break down and just cry.Tomorrow, I will find a moment to smile.And that’s going to make me cry againDon’t tell me to move on, whilst I’m figuring out on how to let go.

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Who am I? Where am I going?

The question I have been asking for forty-five years. For today, I’m just a human in a liminal space. “Standing at the threshold” of I don’t know what yet.  That’s why I have started to write and share my stories of life, love and everything else. The good and the bad. I believe I have…

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