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| Image by the Author |
Disclaimer: This poem contains potentially distressing content on mental health issues. Reader's discretion is advised.
I find solace in the pits of gray
My pockets are full of deep breaths and grounding techniques
Than pockets of hope
I have learned to make friends with the sadness
And my racing mind
For they are the only ones who decided to stay
The ones who won’t give up
I find myself making a home
Out of my broken pieces
The thoughts in my head are my company
I feel the shaking of my bones to the sweat on my fingertips
Breaking down, time and time again
Pulling back as soon as I decide to reach out
My mind is at war
I listen to her, I call for a truce
Decided to find my peace in my storm
For what is the use of holding on to a better tomorrow
If I will always be haunted by my darkest parts?
