It seems you have been here before.
Yes, you have.
The objects look the same.
Yet, you know they are different.
The dust is another layer formed.
Another year gone by, and you must escape from under these dark clouds.
Your eyes are heavy.
Your ears don’t hear well.
Strength can be difficult to find.
Every morning you put life into categories,
As if they can be labeled,
As if they will gain a different meaning.
One you will understand better.
One that doesn’t make your heart so weary.
One that doesn’t make you suffer so much.
Yes, the arrows still fly around you.
Nights become days as you walk toward the dark again.
You feel more is within your grasp, but never fully able to see it.
It takes time to deliver.
You tell yourself these words.
You navigate the weight of life on your shoulders.
There are no remedies to take the pressure away.
Yes, it is this way.
Not all the time is it great.
Not all the time is it right.
There aren’t magical words to fulfill your desires.
Half of your existence remains tucked away.