My head is full of grey wisps, cirrus clouds sweep in and
out.
Body aches, limbs drag
Lost in thought, mind spinning, faster, faster
I have these days.
I have had many of these days.
I believe I will always have these days.
I attempt forging the
rivers of mental discourse.
Pushing through, hoping
to propel my mind into tomorrow.
Strength in the
knowledge it can end, the cycle remaining unbroken.
Light in the
darkness, suns rising, warming me from within.
But left, as always,
with the memory of shadows,
and the understanding
that it will return.
Does the darkness make me appreciate the light?
Or hate it for fading?
Does
the hardship make me stronger?
Or
do I let it pull me further in, comforted in the familiarity?
How do I embrace these days?
Can I embrace
them?
If I could, would
they end forever?
What if I need
these days?
Am
I defined by them?
Molded by them?
Are they a gift,
an insight?
A
genetic curse or a divine bestowal?
