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I’ve never been able to write happy.

My words are always dark,

they echo with deeper thoughts

that allow glimpses of turmoil 

and fear. 

My pieces expose the most hidden

parts of myself and I feel relief,

like for a minute their gravity is lighter. 

Though lately, 

I’ve been writing poems 

about love

and color

and tranquility.

It’s like I can finally see

beyond this dark blue curtain in front of me,

and there is a golden hue lifting through.

It doesn’t spark dread.

It isn’t eerie.

It doesn’t fill me with fear. 

I’m not rushing.

I’m not desperate for it.

I just let it flow towards me

and let it reach out slowly.

I am not waiting for it to disappear,

and even though I crave its calmness,

I know it is coming,

I know it will last. 

I’ll bask in this rare feeling

of serenity,

where I am still,

where I watch as the

curtain is pulled aside,

and I am swallowed

in gold and comfort. 

Striving to live life passionately, bravely and empowered. Grow with me. Heal with me. Learn with me.