When you breathe in, not all the air comes back out.
That is to say that there will always be a little air left in your lungs.
A little pocket of dreams that won't leave until you do,
A small compartment holding every hope ever felt for you.
I like to think that all of our good moments are kept there
Our hopes and dreams for days to come, and
The sunshine and laughter of days gone by.
When we are stuck in that bad place,
It is that breath of hope that keeps us alive
The air that never escaped our lungs on the best days
saves us on our worst.
From the day you were born,
From the moment you took your first breath,
When that small bit of air didn't exit your lungs,
That is when you started holding on to hope.
Keep breathing,
Keep holding on.