priorities

What's more important?

A scared and lost little girl once said in doubt, "Needless to say I'm starting to feel a little tired inside. Like a tiny worm gnawing away at the insides of my heart and resolve. Blood is starting to leak through the cracks, oozing its way lazily, taking its time because it knows sooner or later the dam is going to burst and a torrent of blood and sweat and pain will pour through, drowning out all previous attempts of 'whattheheartwantswhattheheartwants' ; that phrase always echoing in time with my heartbeats to remind myself: don't give up yet."

How precious those words are. Darling little words of anxiety and uncertainty, winding their way into a little girl's head. Time is of the essence but the essence that makes time bearable is fading fast - like the lingering scent of your shirt or the bitter sweet waft of last night's perfume, citrus becomes stale and "whattheheartwantswhattheheartwants"  becomes "what do I want?".

The only words that hold true are those four, the persistent ones who have permanently lodged themselves to the inside of my head and my heart: One in there and three behind my eyes, so that every time my heart aches I hear a "don't.", and when those nasty little tears come out to shame me, I hear the rest of the four say, "...give up yet".