How ironic that the expectations they stack upon us only weigh us down,
like sacks of rocks upon our shoulders;
but we stand tall and refuse to be crushed underfoot—
These burdens will be our boulder.

Breathe in deep, remember this:
We are human beings;
even the first of our kind were at once evolving—
we were made for dreaming.

I am better now.

One may argue
that this is simply code for “I am waiting for the next relapse”
but that isn’t true.

The future is right here
in my hands. The future is arriving,
and in this moment I have regained control of it,
and of the wonderful thing that is myself,
and my mind,
and my heart,
and my body.

And this, to me, means that there is hope,
and it exists,
and it is real,
and no matter how faintly—
*I can feel it.

Be silent, come awake, and listen
As spring descends, soft as calming breaths
She surrounds you, and her scent follows you
And she is the strangest woman you will ever lay eyes on.

Listen to her softly singing songbirds returned from the winter,
Feel her life and wind encase your still ice body,
See her wake up the sun, see the sky come blue as ever,
Breathe her in and see her grin and watch her spin.

She is green grass eyes in valley-curve face,
She is pretty sunset lips and freshwater smooth skirts,
She is golden hair just thawed from the frost, she is honey taste and easy grace,
She is skin like quiet whispers, like hope and youth and gentle earth.

And you love it, as we all do,
You will chase after her and drink her in.
Her meadows and wilderness and color and newness, you will fall into:
And when she leaves, you will wait for her, till next year.