I think life asks a lot from us. More from some than others. I think we’re strong enough, brave enough, even if we don’t know it yet.
I think that when we become used to letting go, all that remains will just flow. But their will all always be hardship, and that’s ok. It’s the obstacles, the uneasiness, the pain that will make us grow.
We don’t need a way out, but a space within. To plant our feet, to place our wings. To hold on, but just lightly. To know that we’re being held, even without arms around us.
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.
Remanants of those moments, still cling on to me sometimes.
Holding on, in my dreams.
It makes me think of the emptiness, all over again.
The way love just stripped itself bare, right infront of me.
Leaving me with just my shadow.
I was forced to reach inside, inside the emptiness.
It was all taken away from me, my life suspended in time.
Now I have learnt how to fight my battles. I have learnt how to use my sword. I learnt that all I had to do was raise my sword high in the sky, and call out surrender.
I can’t control it. I don’t even know what it really is.
All I know, is that I have to wake up each new day, and live it.
Live it and love it so much that it hurts.
Whatever life brings to me, whatever I choose to bring to the table.
Even when everything aches, I still show up.
Your soul can’t be absent here, it doesn’t work like that.
You can’t classify yourself dead, when you’re still alive.
I feel like I can no longer do this. That life has just become too out of reach.
I fight for what I have become.
I fight for what I don’t have.
I fight for a better place.
Life teases me too much.
It knows where it hurts the most and it doesn’t even care.
Life leaves me cold, and worthless.
It leaves me poor and broken.
It reminds me of the past.
Life makes me stronger though.
I don’t know why and I don’t even know how.
Somehow the sky fills itself back up with stars.
It gives me hope again, yes even allover the scattered glass, it’s there.
Then I know I am blessed.