RISE

Rise

Hollow inside, a shadow walking in the light.
You see it — the light.
Warm and golden all around you, but the heat doesn’t reach inside.
It’s cold there. Numb.
You are transparent, a ghost wandering in a winter hell.

You can feel again next week, you say.
It’s matter of survival, a temporary quieting of a heart that’s lost.
Nose down, eyes ahead.
Focus on the present. On being. On breathing.
Wake. Live. Sleep. Repeat.
Stop feeling.
Ice.

But feelings come as they want, and the ice melts in unexpected moments.
It floods over you – consuming, constricting, conflicting.
And you are left paralyzed.
Out of breath. Capsized.
Awash, in the memories of the life you lost.
That maybe you never really had at all.

And for a moment, you fall.
You fold.
You just fucking give up.
A shell, shattered on the floor.
But for just a moment.

Because you’ve done this before.
And because you have, you tell yourself to laugh. To smile.
Even if it is fake and forced and fucking stupid.
Even if the smile doesn’t reach your eyes.
Smile.
Because maybe your body will be fooled into thinking the smile is real.

The only way forward is through, they say.
So you rise.
From the floor.
From this moment.
From the feelings that consume you, and the memories that dance before your eyes.
From the smoking ashes of a dream, dead and dust.

You rise strong.

Because the light will come back one day.
And someday, your smile will reach your eyes again.
And because in the moments we rise, we define who we are.
And because the only guardian of your happiness is yourself.

So, feel the feelings when they come, and then rise strong.

Rise strong.