Walking. Darkness. Thorn but trees, the stream below or the clouds above. Rest. Listen to the rumble. A rock to steady your heavy heart crumbles.

Get up. Feeling your way forward you are scraped as branches and thorns draw on your skin. You feel the burn but it belongs to another time.

Giving up is not an option. The legacy of who you truly are at 3 am, known to few, must remain intact. The core of your existence – flawed in imperfection beautiful. Your throat raw with emotion, but not a tear will fall.

A light far away. The flickering becomes brighter. Hurry. Forward. The darkness is overcome with light. Deep breath in.

Defeated, the darkness rolls away. There is no competing with light….until night falls when we play again.

A writer writes. Sometimes they share.

I wish you enough,
Wenchy

Tears stream down your face
I promise you I will learn from my mistakes
Tears stream down your face
And I

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you
-Coldplay