Its a process slower than I'd like,
much like a young girl learning how to ride her very first bike.

Healing.

I can feel the hope wiggle in my toes,
though my head is still filled with a plague of darkness drowning in my woes.

Healing.

I can't see light at the end of the tunnel just yet,
but I can feel its warmth trying to find my hardened silhoutte,

It's called healing.
The process of new growth after something has been broken down,
much like my spirit beaten to the ground.
But I have to keep pushing,
living for a brighter day.
Hopefully all this will mean something,
even if it means nothing til the next life,
A place where my body and my mind aren't in constant strife.

I've began the healing process,
even if the finish line is still far away.
But all I can do is hope for a brighter day.