The Waiting Game.

The hopelessness creeps in,
trying to sneak past
every defense I've made.

I patiently wait it out,
watching as colors fade,
wondering when they'll return.

But sometimes, the wait continues
and I have little fight in me;
no one sees how hard I try.

They tell me to keep waiting,
promising it will all get better,
as my faith in myself wanes.

Guilt curls into my shadow;
is this a burden I must carry alone?
There must be more than pain.

So I take turns, waiting and living,
letting myself acknowledge the hurt,
if only to weld it into something better.

And each time I come out from the dark,
I tell myself it's a valid victory,
even if I can't always feel it right then.

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Written 7/20/2023