For The Days You Feel You Broken And Lost

on some days, the world will seem too large
for you to be able to find where you belong
or too small for you to be able to belong.
you will feel doubt creeping up on you
like every shadow you ever tried to escape,
you will feel helpless in its grip,
tired, weak and terribly, terribly insignificant.
you will feel the pain of the past with an onrush of anxiety about the future,
a wilting rose on a half-covered grave
and you will struggle to make sense of everything.
time and space will become lumps in your throat
that will only grow huger if you try to swallow them.
you will weep, then,
trying to find meaning
in fragments of friendship and family,
trying to rearrange broken bits
so they become whole again,
trying to see if you are still yourself.
you will forget faith
in the face of this dreariness,
and life will seem like a knife put to your throat
asking you to keep walking.
you will prefer blood
to motion.
you would rather lie in a pool of misery
than have a hundred people who want to help.
you will not feel like walking out
but neither will you want to stay in.
you will find autumn at your door
but seasons of letting go mean too many dried leaves
under tired feet
so you will push against the door with all your might,
resist with the strength of a lifetime.
you will hurt
like never before
and burn
like never before,
but life will take its turns
like never before
and you will be in a happier place
and I’ll be by your side
chasing butterflies,
writing poetry,
gently, gently, holding
every winged syllable up to you
to make you believe
that you’re meant to fly
too.