you are important beyond your thoughts,
you have come so far in such a small amount of time,
your efforts are not ignored.
three hundred and sixty-five days have passed twenty times,
and you are still breathing.
i have loved you for three hundred and sixty-five days times,
the days you have suffered,
the moments you failed,
the hours in which you felt alone;
you were locked in but you wanted someone to pry the door down to let your demons out.
i have not stopped loving you and i may have stopped showing it but
that showed your determination.
you pushed on in your personal dark hours just to make it to the light.
the glow of hope that now radiates onto your skin,
you are living proof that strength lies within.
love brought it out,
but your courage kept it constant.

hope aches
it’s a feeling that yearns for positivity
while ripping at emotions from the inside.
it’s a spell that needs just enough pain to create a final happiness.
hope craves,
starving yourself to get just a bite.

Fairy tales have always had an antagonist;
an evil witch or vengeful pirate,
plotting against the beloved hero,
but not all stories are realistic.
There are villains out to get you,
but they can be a lot closer than a broom ride away.
The ones glaring with glowing eyes from the shadows emerge
and you recognize that reflection.

Sometimes the one preventing you from completing a task,
celebrating a victory,
or capturing the damsel.
Is because the distress is yours
and the hand locking it away can be your own twisting the key.

Growing up there was chaos reshaping the love;
it was the cycle that gave us our dynamic.
A single thing acted like a looming shadow as it circled our warm home.
It would **** them one by one into its cold smog.
I grew used to its presence;
making me numb to its touch.
I had to settle the rest of their souls by ridding them of the darkness.
I was young but I understood pain;
I saw it in their eyes,
heard it behind a smile,
and felt it with the lingering touch -
longing to be comforted.
Eventually, the shadow turns to light.
The pain dissolved,
but I still remember every situation I made right -
the memories of the darkness still live inside me.

the only way I could ever love myself is if I can look with rose colored glasses
but my vision is clear; lenses untinted and I can see all that I bare.

As you guzzle down your emotions,
forcibly silencing yourself,
You’re actually drowning an addiction;
Rather than your sorrows.
the liquid that easily slides down your throat,
is engulfing you in its depressively, thick brew.
Your eyes are noticeably bloodshot,
while mine are hidden behind hands and muffled tears.

I can’t remember every detail but within the darker memories-
I see happiness.
Each gray, childhood faded image brightens when I recall the love that swarmed that house.
It was a time before I feared,
Before we grieved,
Before life overtook each conversation.
Instead, every face held a welcoming smile,
Laughter was sung with each breath,
Life was nothing but the one I shared with those four people within those walls.
Those four people made those four walls, wrapping around us like an embrace,
a home.