Some days

there’s nothing

left,

and you’re not

quite sure

how you’ll make it to the next.

 

Some days

you’re running on empty.

and you set your eyes,

on small, barely

achievable goals;

like make it through this hour,

or just muster up

the will to shower.

 

 

These words are here

a small reminder

for when you’re swimming,

up hill through sticky syrup,

 

 

At some point,

you will put your foot,

back in the stirrup.

It’s not today,

and that is far from a disaster

Hold on,

as hard of an ask,

as that sometimes is.

 

In the not

too distant future,

You’ll crest the hill,

Atop the saddle,

riding your way,

back to laughter.