Waiting For Rain
let me lay my lore bare
until another fog rolls in
and reality fades away
let me paint imagined futures
until the fingers holding the brush turn numb
and the picture before me resembles that which never is
let me carve you a place to leave hollow when you leave
just to have to plant a new seed where you stood
and water it from the depleting well
The Prison in The Middle
Each year further away from the darkness that engulfed the old me
is a step further into the light revealing the new me.
I remember the me in the middle,
painting myself with punishment that felt like it would save me.
Layer upon layer until the skin beneath could no longer hold the weight
and the cracks split open,
burrowing to the depths of my soul.
A glimpse of the precipice on the edges of existence;
an invitation I forbid myself to ever accept again.
Crawling towards the end of the tunnel,
I built my amour from the dressings around my wounds,
clawing up the walls until I could stand again on my own two feet again
and take that step into life.
Jasmine is a creative by trade and hobby. She writes to portray emotions and share big stories in small snippets, often focusing on her own experiences with family, mental health, heart break, and more to remind readers they are not alone and should explore their own mind.