Beacons

Everything seems well and good.

Until you remember, you have always held you body

as a beacon heralding harm

And darkness resides in corners you don’t know, waiting to creep up into your heart

And your heart, it’s an iron walled cage

with a gentle, sensitive soul.

It hurts and it hurts so it twines iron around itself, keeping you in, holding you close.

A note on mental health

If you have ever suffered with depression or anxiety, if you are currently suffering with it, you know that sometimes, you can spend hours, days, and sometimes weeks feeling like you are utterly incomplete. Like all of you is never quite completely there. And these phases are so difficult to go through, to understand.

And then, out of the blue, these days appear where you feel good. You feel whole. You feel like you could go out there and achieve anything. These are the days you are the person you truly are and you want to be.

And I think, these are a reminder that you can take a step above your mental illness. These are a reminder that you have a fighting chance. You still exist and you are so strong and so brave. And I want you to remember these days. I hope that you have so many more of them. I want you to know, you will be okay.

These Nights

These nights, these nights, these hazy nights

Eyes wide open, mind unclear

These days, these days, these days

Things just dont feel right

Eyes wide open, heart unsure

I’ve been here before

I can’t say I dont know

I’ve walked down these roads before

Sat through the same show

I know how it all ends

I know just how this going to go

You see, the map has changed, the terrains will shift, the weather won’t be the same anymore

But there will be a new path to follow

Because with change, comes healing.

– For the minds that continue to race into the depths of the night

A Note

A note to the writers and dreamers

Someday, you and I will be running along beaches with the night breeze running through our hair. Someday, we will be lying carefree in chaise lounges with the soft touch of the sun in our face

Someday, we will be sitting by rivers and reading our books; without a care of what is to come or what is to be done. Someday, the smell of rain, of spring and of summer, will fill our hearts and we will be content

Someday, someday very soon, the tide will turn and the world will be ours again