The title of this post are words told to me by a dear friend, and they’re true. I’ve had enough battle scars in my lifetime to know when I can no longer lick my wounds and just heal. At the moment I’m just walking around in a daze and just trying to breathe.
But when you get so many wounds, so many battle scars, eventually your body, heart and soul just give up and you slowly start to die. I no longer want to pick up the pieces and I don’t know if anyone understands that. I just want to shift my focus elsewhere to a place where I cannot be touched. A place where people don’t notice and just don’t care.