“Thanks” isn’t the right word.

Thanks, isn’t the right word…

For the feeling I’m feeling.

After deciding to live. After being offered a chance to live.

Many times.

It’s a word more like …“awe.”

They told me to hold on.

And wait for the days of sun.

But I could not believe them.

Because I was the walking dead.

Wandering.

Lost.

In a sea of broken human parts.

And broken souls.

I dragged my body through the days.

Like a zombie, with a makeup kit.

I was praying for relief. From it all.

And relief, she came.

But not all at once.

It came drip.

By drip.

The way hope this deep, gets in.

Through the cracks. Through the bones.

Through the smallest breaks in the foundation.

That’s where this type of hope seeps in.

Drip by drip.

Moment by moment.

Soon, I recognized myself.

I realized I was no longer struggling for air.

I was no longer Raging against the current.

No…now, I was floating.

On waters I never imagined humans could traverse.

I let go of false prophets.

And I trusted myself.

I understood that I am the vessel, not the churn.

That I am the current, not the crash.

I find others who have learned to float.

We share wisdom on surviving the fall.

And manifesting the rise.

We float on.

In awe…

of the journey we get to take together.

With Love For Humanity,

ESG