once electric and new
        your strings put up a fight,
but now our ties have dwindled down
        and they are no more than strands of hair.
my counter is in disarray
        broken tiles lay at my feet,
but my rock is sharpened
        held in my hands waiting to strike.
now i just need to think
        am i about to be free
                or make my biggest mistake?

when i'm letting someone go i picture guitar strings
        plastic
                fragile.
then comes the knife
        the sharpest butcher's knife one has ever seen
                glistening
                        fresh.
with one fatal swoop
        impact is made and
                the strings are cut like
                        butter.
but your strings are different
        electric
                metallic
                        strong and built to last.
and suddenly my knife
        is but a rock on a stick
                it holds no chance
                        bouncing off with every hit.

There are too many poems about the sun shining through a dark day

But they're all true

When we feel we the weight of a thousand worlds bear down upon us

When we feel we cannot breathe without making a mistake

When we feel we are better off in the distant land that comes after life

There is a ray

It is a song

It is a book

It is that first sip of coffee on a cold day

It is mother nature

It is the people we hold dearest

The people who remind us that we are not alone

The people who strengthen us to push those worlds, to take those breaths

The people who remind us to stay here, in life

When I am my cloudy day
These people are my rays of hope.