There are days

where I am lost

within myself.

I find my path blocked

by a grove of trees

that surround me.

There doesn’t seem to be

any way past them,

though I can see the sun

as it peeks through.

There is a path

underneath my feet.

Turning away from the trees,

I follow that path.

It is made out of a multitude of things,

like broken glass,

crumpled paper that is covered in writing,

a rainbow of lost pens,

or random trinkets and ticket stubs.

I look up from the path

and notice that there are people

that I’ve left behind.

They linger within me still,

or the mark they left on me does.

I can also see versions of me,

everyone that I’ve been,

or tried to be.

These stand like shadowy scarecrows,

neither real or unreal.

Further still,

I can see the mountains that I know so well.

As I approach them,

they start to shrink,

for I’ve scaled them before,

so many times,

that I know every nook and cranny,

every hole that I’ve had to cling to

for temporary safety.

I put the small pebble in my pocket

for this path and the mountain

are part of the same path.

It feels heavy and I look for something

to help make it lighter.

I bend down and pick up one piece of glass,

a small piece that looks

like a piece of eggshell from a robin’s nest.

It reminds me of how I broke free,

how I was able to break through.

The piece is shaped like a feather.

I put this in my pocket, too.

Further down the path,

I come upon another small grove,

but these trees are different.

They aren’t covered in dark leaves

that whisper lies and half truths to me.

Though their branches seem bare at first,

I notice that hanging within them

are polaroid photos

of everyone that I love.

The photos contain moments

that I had with them,

ones that brought me joy.

The joyful moments are hidden here,

away from the dark forest

that surrounds me.

That is so that when I go back along the path,

towards the trees that

wish to keep me here,

I will be able to carry light back with me

that will combat the dark.

Looking at the photos,

I pluck one of my most cherished photos.

It is a photo taken at my happiest moment.

I clutch it to my chest and slide it into my pocket.

the feelings from that moment

fill me full of light.

I can feel the three charms against the darkness

fluttering above my heart,

excited for their journey

as I walked towards the trees

and follow the path

as it brings me back to myself.

I follow the path,

knowing that I am no longer

lost.