TALKING YOURSELF OUT OF IT

 You’re fine. 

Say it again. 

Until those two words reach your limbs. 

Look in the mirror. 

Ignore the tired in your eyes. 

Implore yourself to smile. 

Don’t cry. 

You’re fine. 

Get dressed. 

Go be perfect. 

Go be incredible. 

Go be the friend your friends deserve. 

Go be everything you’re in need of. 

Try again. 

Try harder. 

Don’t quit.

You’re fine. 

Remember better days. 

Disappear in them. 

Come back stronger. 

Stop complaining. 

You’re fine. 

Be happy. Be happy. Be happy. 

Be ashamed for not being happier. 

Pull yourself out of it. 

Find your footing. 

Find your dreams. 

You’re fine. 

Look for the light. 

Be the light. 

Work harder. 

Work more. 

Work. 

Laugh, despite that sinking feeling. 

Swallow the knot in your throat. 

Step over the pit in your stomach. 

It’s not your fault that it’s your fault. 

It’s ok to not be ok, 

but hurry up and be ok. 

You’re fine. 

Say it again. 

Say it until you hate it. 

Say it until you can’t stand the taste of it. 

Say it until there’s no air left in your lungs. 

Say it until you cough on your own exhaustion. 

Say it one final time, 

then swear to never say it again. 

Don’t leave the raging tempests within you untouched. 

Let the heavy rain soak your burnt-out frame.

Stand still and beg for the lighting strike.

Feel all of life profusely. 

Learn the rough weather you’re made of,

until you love the storm you are.