TW: Depression, Anxiety

More hope is on its way.
It’ll be here any minute
but we don’t have to wait.
We don’t have to stay.
We can leave right now.
I’ve come to get you out of here.
This poem is for the people waiting for things to get better.
The kind who say, “The lines here always take forever
I may as well sit down.”
I’m here to tell you to stay on your feet.
It’s time to leave.
This poem is for the people rationing their hope;
Not knowing for sure things will ever get better again,
but willing to wait to find out.
They are lacking hope, full of doubt;
this poem says pack your shit we’re leaving.
We don’t need absolute confidence.
We don’t need promises or proof first.
We just need a shred of hope;
a maybe, a what if, any bit will do.
We are getting out of this place.
We’re gonna find where you belong.
I know what you’re thinking.
No, it’s not perfect out there,
but we aren’t looking for a paradise or any cures.
We understand the ebb and flow
and whenever we forget, we can remind each other.
Things get better, and then maybe they get worse.
They take a sharp left and we arrive here once again,
but the next day may be the best one in your whole life.
We may come back here often.
I don’t know how to stay away forever.
I don’t have all the answers.
All I know is that things can always get better.
As long as there is air in your lungs
and time on your clock,
things can get better again.
Ebb and flow.
This poem is not about getting happy and staying that way.
This poem is not a miracle.
It’s assurance that you don’t have to grow accustomed to the dark.
This poem is just a spark
but it can burn down the house you are trying to build here.
It’s a demand that you stop wallowing in the valley.
This poem is an offer to take the next train out of this place.
It’s a reminder that you don’t have to dwell here
just because you know your way around.
You were ready to leave a long time ago.
You just weren’t sure it was worth it.
Why leave when you know you’ll be back here again someday?
Maybe sooner than later.
This poem is for the doubtful, the hopeless,
the ones who are so tired they just stay put.
This poem says it’s time leave anyway.
This place is not your home.