Therapy Bits

In the depth of the night,

when shadows stretch their cold fingers,

and the weight of the world sits heavy,

like a stone lodged in the chest,

hope flickers—

a fragile flame,

dancing in the drafts of despair.

It whispers in the quiet moments,

where silence roars the loudest,

like a soft lullaby woven through

the fabric of chaos,

reminding me,

that the dawn waits,

even when the stars seem endlessly distant.

Each breath

becomes a silent prayer,

a testament to resilience,

each heartbeat a pulse of promise,

that the tides will turn,

that storms must pass,

and through cracks in the pavement,

flowers will emerge—

defiant, alive.

I stand upon the precipice

of my own doubts,

gazing into the abyss,

and though the dark is thick,

with despair lingering like a fog,

I remember—

hope is not the absence of shadows,

but the courage to seek light,

to cradle that warmth

with hands trembling yet steady.

It dwells in the mundane,

the laughter of a child,

the soft rustle of leaves,

the gentle touch of a hand,

reminding me that life,

like an infinite tapestry,

is stitched with both sorrow and joy.

I carry hope like a pebble in my pocket,

smooth and familiar,

a talisman against despair,

whispering that this moment,

even if heavy,

is a part of the journey—

that within me resides an ember,

waiting to ignite,

turn a flicker into fire,

and illuminate the path yet to unfold.

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