The bed of dandelions is a wonderland. They are all different colors and filled with so much magic. The fluffy heads looked like magic—tiny miracles that would work effortlessly to make your wish come true.

Every single day is a game of tug-of-war; I have to fight, push, and pull for something. Every single day it is double or nothing. I pulled and pulled and pulled and saved my soul from being rotten. I dug my hands and feet in the sand—the moon controlled the tides. The moon is watching over me. The moon is my protector. I was protected because I am here. I guess I should be grateful. I am breaking. When will enough be enough?

Every single day is a game of tug-of-war; I have to fight, push, and pull for something. Every single day it is double or nothing.

I pulled and pulled and pulled and saved my soul from being rotten. I dug my hands and feet in the sand—the moon controlled the tides. The moon is watching over me. The moon is my protector. I was protected because I am here. I guess I should be grateful. I am breaking. When will enough be enough?

Every single day is a game of tug-of-war; I have to fight, push, and pull for something.

It is like I am on a merry-go-round; it just keeps going in circles, round and round—and another go-round I go. When will I be able to get off?

Why do I have to fight all the time when I just want to have peace? Why is it so hard for me to find peace? It shouldn’t be this difficult to find.

Everyone was like devils with snakes’ eyes trying to coil me up as they tried to suffocate me. Their actions squeezed me until my vision was blurry, and darkness covered my soul. They worked overtime trying to hypnotize me and bury me with their lies.

Everyone was like devils with snakes’ eyes trying to coil me up as they tried to suffocate me.