Content warning: mental health; mention of self-harm
I haven’t self-harmed in six weeks,
and it’s awakened possibility in softer edges.
I let the day in,
and the sun seeps into my scars,
inviting me to welcome my wounds
and tend my tears.
Awe comes upon me—
a decision more often than not—
and it is enough to know
tomorrow brings another day.
I’ll search for new skies, but take comfort
in knowing I need not reach a destination.
For we have enough burdens here.
These days, and everything inside them,
create room to reassert vitality, to recommit to life
in the face of all that is broken,
one shining eye at a time.
And isn’t that everything?
Doesn’t that feel like dancing under the glow of the moon?
Kara Dunford (she/her) is a writer living with depression and anxiety in Washington, DC. She loves theater and ice cream, and she can often be found rooting for the Red Sox, Washington Spirit, and DC United, or exploring used bookshops. She serves as Poetry Editor for Overtly Lit. Come say hi on Twitter @kara_dunford.