I am torn.

Inside out, I can feel the pulling.

I am churning and spinning with wild hair and wild eyes.

My panic is rising.

I’m holding on too tightly because letting go is terrifying. 

The pain is deep within.

My heart will explode. Proof of its brokenness splattering against the wall. Spraying pieces of my being violently onto the floor. Pulling all my churning insides out. Torn from me.

The pain is deep.

My longing is trapped inside walls formed in my brain.

I envision a tiny door, an escape hatch.

The other side of the door brings Sunshine. I can see the light peeking through the cracks.

Getting there would be slow. I have to wade through the mud. 

I am being pulled.

But my brokenness begs me to stay in this place and hold onto the pieces left for a little bit longer.  

I am being pulled.

I am torn.