It comes out like a confession.
Thank you for returning my soul to me.
How can I be grateful when this is the world I’m waking up in?
Thank you for returning my soul to me.
How can I be grateful when this is the world I’m waking up in?
I try to focus on this moment of awareness,
to seek your face,
to find something in this world to love.Â
to seek your face,
to find something in this world to love.Â
The soft blanket.
Sunlight through the curtains.Â
Sunlight through the curtains.Â
I imagine my soul nestled deep in my body,
breathe it in,
but my breath
catches
on
the edge of the narrows.Â
breathe it in,
but my breath
catches
on
the edge of the narrows.Â
Where everything is wrong. Where there is no hope.
Where every time I wake up, it will be like this.Â
And
yet,
it won’t.Â
yet,
it won’t.Â
Because every time I open my eyes anew,
something is different.Â
something is different.Â
The warmth of my own body heat.
Morning rain against the windows.Â
Morning rain against the windows.Â
And just as your face changes,
so does mine.Â
so does mine.Â
I’m trying to learn.Â
And if I keep saying these words, maybe eventually I’ll mean them.Â
I don’t know why you believe in me.
Wrapping me in your motherly embrace.
Waking me up.
Wrapping me in your motherly embrace.
Waking me up.
But
maybe
I should try believing in me too.Â
maybe
I should try believing in me too.Â
