when part of me died, you died too.

“Merry Christmas” she wiped the tears as the words echoed in her head.
Glancing through the glass window as the car moves, she slipped into her reverie.
The memories that chained her thoughts.
She wrestled with her inner feelings and struggled with the truth.
Sometimes, it gets to hard to breathe.
She hyperventilates.
She stopped.
And closed her eyes, as tears rolled down her cheekbones.
She laid back on the car pillow and sucked in a deep, long breath.
Counting to ten, she exhale slowly.
With each breath releasing the different segments of her mind.

She was told that she was strong, that is a compliment dear to her heart.

She takes pride in being strong, despite being so broken.

She is full of attitude, she is an attitude bitch.
She doesnt talk to you unless she likes your face.
People often misjudged her but she doesnt bother.

If you cant understand her silence, then you certainly do not deserve her words.

This Christmas has been good.
Thank you Jesus.