Push

Darkness.

It is a tunnel of despair.

Of loss. Of fear.

It swamps me, blankets me until I hear nothing, feel nothing, until I am nothing.

Until my very essence disappears and I find myself a shivering sliver of a star.

 

A light.

Gleaning in the far distance,

A glowing orb so unreachable, I would sooner cup the stars in my palms before I felt its shadows.

 

Faces.

Of those who love unconditionally.

Of those who are made of the light.

And one that is so faint, even the light of the greatest star could not locate its place of hiding.

It is a face that does not always love me.

One that does not always believe in me.

But it is the only one that clings to my heart with every floundering step I intend to take,

Pushing

          Pushing

                     Pushing.

 

Myself.

I reach up and grab a glowing orb of my own.

And with it cradled within my hands,

I begin my journey.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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