THE WOUNDED SPIRIT

I remind myself, it's okay to not be okay
Allow giving yourself time to heal
To be kind to yourself,
To love yourself gently,
Even the heaviest of storms
Calms one day
Everything needs to be looked after,
If not cared for properly
Even the strongest of building will crumble
I've heard all there is,
To what you have to say
The wounded spirit thats tired and needing
Here on my hands lays marks I made
Regretting each day as to why I punished myself with such pain,
Maybe I was looking for an escape from far more greater pain
Sit down, inhale and exhale
I knew there is no such thing as perfection
But, still hated my reflection
As dumb as I pretend
But happiness, I dimly guess
Is what that counts in the end.