Waves and Threads

Some days there is sorrow swelling inside of me,

A dark ocean swell, breaking hard against a rocky shore,

Slowly wearing my existence away, one sand particle at a time,

Each turbulent wave, relentlessly followed by another.

Some days, it’s as if I am fraying at the edges,

Even the gentlest of breezes pulls undone the threads

Every sharp word, every nervous motion,

Leaving the frayed edges, raw, red and undone.

Other days the whole world seems shrouded in shadow,

Even when the sun shines warm and bright,

A cold darkness envelopes my mind, crawls down my back,

Every step forward sparks an internal battle with despair.

Then when it feels as though all threads are pulled,

All the walls have crumbled to sand,

and nothing is left to stop the shadow from seeping within,

There is a day of clarity.

When there are no storms, no raw frayed edges,

and quickly my body builds itself back together.

Cell after cell remade, thread after thread rewoven

Determined to be stronger for the next storm.