The wind whispers, ‘it’s going to be alright’. Life holds me like the stars holds its stars. Strangers bring me their light, smiles like golden hours. They fill me up and carry me.
But when I allow myself to be completely alone, I feel an emptiness. The scars deep inside, I can feel every inch of them. I taste the blood inside my tears. And their is no one to carry me, to hold me. I wonder is it because I don’t need anyone? Or is it because I have been forgotten about?
But maybe it is meant to happen, when I’m grey and old. When I have exhausted every strength, lived every ‘me’ time to its fullness. And the wind will whisper to me, ‘he has arrived.’
Hope grew from the wreckage. The sun touching it, soaking up all the poison. Life wasn’t going to be easy. But I grew stronger and learnt how to breath much deeper.
And still I stumble. But I always find my way, picking up all the broken pieces and only looking back to see how far I’ve come.
I’ve learnt so much about being grateful. Taking in every moment and treating it like a conversation I’m having with the universe.
Always remembering that life doesn’t necessarily give you what you want. That even the pain endured, is a blessing.
Knowing that any darkness will pass. That the light isn’t far away. I always hold on to this. This is how I have learnt how to survive. And realising that I am strong and brave enough to tether any storm.
This courage, I’m still trying to find. I peel back the layers that life has built around me. I won’t be fooled by my perceptions, because that’s all they are. Sometimes what is real is buried deep down underneath. So don’t get caught up in the confusion. The illusion that what you see is always real.