Therapy Bits

In the quiet hours where shadows cling,
I wander through a fog that has no name.
The world is dim—its edges trembling—
and every step feels carved from flame.

I search for something softer than the ache,
a lantern humming in the distant night,
some tender glow that grief can’t break,
a single breath of steady light.

My thoughts move like storms beneath my skin,
uncertain winds that twist and bend.
I lose myself, then start again—
a loop that seems to never end.

But even in the pitch-black places,
where fear paints masks on weary faces,
I hold a spark, faint but true—
a whispered hope that carries me through.

And maybe light is not a sudden dawn,
but a pulse, a promise, quietly drawn
from the courage to rise, however slight,
and keep believing darkness can give way
to light.

Thursday Inspiration #307 The Things That I Used To Do – A Unique Title For Me