Sitting in the dark because it brings
far more comfort than the light.
There is nothing here
for all my doubts and fears,
and at the bottom, the well of all my tears.
There, a child is crying,
a teenager is screaming,
and a young woman is trying
desperately to find meaning.
I look to them with pity;
their emotions are plenty,
overwhelm wrapping me like vines,
the thorns of each new and old emotion digging in.
My blood, sweat, and tears—
yet life never feels like a win.
How long must I carry the weight
I thought I had dropped?
When will I heal enough
to live and not exist,
to thrive and not survive,
to find joy in everyday life?
To find solace in those that love me,
to find beauty in those that accept me,
to stand in awe of my reflection,
to see the me those loving eyes mirror back.
To find comfort in the words that soothe the crying child,
to calm the screaming teenager,
to guide the young woman, explaining
that life is an adventure that doesn’t need a plan.
To help the survivor understand
that in order to thrive, she must let go of control,
to let be, to not look back—
the future is waiting, and the present is calling.
Healing may not be linear,
but it’s a checkpoint—
so even if we have to go back,
we can always move forward.
And one day, we will stand firm in ourselves;
we will whisper, I love you.
I love every crack and fissure,
I love every flaw without measure,
I love every emotion we feel,
I love the body that carries our soul,
and I love our soul and our love, most of all.
