Depleted

Wanting to write but the words don't come out.

Craving creativity but the crayon caves into dust.

Reaching, grasping, longing, for security, sense of hope, light, giddy, feminine, elated feeling that has sense melted into mere memory.

Will it ever come back? Of course.

But when.

The impatience feels impossible.

Watches movies, cries to sad songs.

Theres no reason even to be sad.

Embarrassment. 

She's too much, then she's not enough. Never enough. 

Fine. Sleep.

Try again.

Dusts herself off. Picks herself up.

Step by step.

“Forward is a pace”

Cuddle the pup. Play happy harmonies.

Find the smile. Even if its a practice smile…the real one will find its way home eventually.

The clouds roll in. Vibrating waves of white across the sky.

“You’re ok.” She hears in her mother’s voice to herself.

“You’re going to be ok.”