Running after ghosts of the past,
whilst stepping on glass shards,
you spend your days chasing the next high,
not knowing that you’re getting caught in the lies.

Like a spider that
meticulously weaves
and endlessly plots,
you take your strides cautiously,
yet still with a hint of mischievous spontaneity.

But the train tracks ahead of you
that are littered with rocks
and the crunch of footsteps behind that mocks even you,
never falters, never ceases.
You pace yourself as though you're running,
but all you're really doing is falling.

You’re drowning in quicksand,
making waves in the pits.
Distressed cries; not knowing where you’d land.
You wait to see if anyone will save you,
not knowing that all you ever needed was yourself.

Do you not see, do you not hear?
That your heart is hurting?

Its asking you to love yourself a little more,
to let your guard down and soar,
to bless yourself with change,
although it may be strange (to you).

This life is an endless journey of self growth,
charted by fate, and
accompanied with love,
but only when you let it happen,
will it make you great again.