If this were a song, I’d hush at the thought of singing it.
And if this were a poem, I’d close my eyes to not see it.
There’s a graveyard of fruit flies trapped inside a painting.
Behind a layer of glass.
From a few springs ago.
At this moment I’m having this sweet epiphany.
Like balloons my worries are aloft.
At the thought of falling back into the dark depths of my mind I’d run where one won’t find me.
I’m just bored of being afraid.
Letting it ruin my day.
My fears are only as strong as I let them be.
And I don’t feel like they’ll grow stronger if I just let them be.
If I were someone else, I’d give me a hug and say something nice.
If I had given up, I wouldn’t have been so hopeful after a fight.
Someone dear to me said “Don’t give up on yourself”.
No matter how hard it gets.
And I’m not gonna fall back down again into the depths.
I’m just bored of being scared.