My Little World.

I come home everyday & unload pockets full of colorful scrap post-its. They're filled with things that make my mind sad. Sometimes I crumble them into little balls and leave them places. Little worry gardens that go unnoticed. My neck is sore because I'm failing to see all the sides.

I'll wash my hair over a sink, so I can watch closely when the hidden worries flow down the drain.

Someone pointed to a picture & said "This looks just like you!" It was a picture of a fawn. Could they see my insides?