I am pressing on into something better I hope
Life is short and I'll be unable to witness any fruits
But maybe for a brief moment there will be no labor
And I can breathe in deeply a calming stillness
Tag Archives: improvement
I never notice when the weight is lifted
But I do know when it drops
A crushing force to my porous corpse
All my insides are flattened and I can see myself from the sky
I keep expecting my whole life to be laid out
So I can catalogue the backlog of reasons to not exist
I will make assertions about my character that I struggle to shake
Like black cats in ant hills
My ears ringing deaf to self validation and grace
My body torn asunder under the pressure of empty standards
Dense
Stuttering validation
Shortness of breath
I am
Pressing our souls
Together like hands held
In content and contempt
Tenderly laying me to rest
Your smile is betrayed
By the pity in your countenance
My heart and eyes are heavy
I would rather leave
But I keep pushing
Untitled
Even though my voice is like autumn under foot
And my words are like winter in your bones
I just want to speak summer to your name
But this is the spring of our lives
It’s hard to let you go
But I’ve spent too long holding you back
I’m okay
I’m not well, but I’m okay I guess
Just a trickle of whispers adding to my troubled existence
A constant tug to shoot all of my sorrow out
But I’m not sure if that’s what I want to talk about
Maybe for a moment instead talk about the growth in mental health
Bloodied knuckles that have racked against that door to a better self
I have a schedule now, items to keep myself busy and on track
I am not without motivation but it takes concerted effort of which I fear I lack
But growth is not a series of uninterrupted steps to the end
It’s faltering through a looped and winding road of memories
Waking up further back than I was, clawing at the dirt hoping for remedies
I’m getting better and clearer
But I don’t think happiness is much nearer
There’s a good chance it might be
But I worry that I’ve plucked out my eyes and I’m wandering blindly
Guided by a numbed sense of touch and a nose filled with ash
I do hear well though, not just the whispers but faint laughs in cache
Playing louder or softer down different paths so I try to find it’s crescendo
I’m not honestly sure if it’s progress or just an echo
Waking up is becoming less and less of a tragedy every day
I’m not well but I’m okay
How Hope Was Lost 