There are days when I feel as though
I may actually be okay.
It’ll be a good day where I am not
weighed down by anything in my brain.
I can function on a level that almost
resembles normal.

But those days don’t last.
And they are not more then half my days.
Most days I spend in this state of mundane,
existing.

But on my dark days.
On the days when the sky has no light.
And my mind is as turbulent as the sea in a tsunami.
Those days tend to take up my months.
And I spend most days,
Trying not to drown.

But those good days.
God do those good days taste wonderful.
After months of tasting ash and debris in my mouth.
Those good days taste like sunshine.