Fog/Horns

(14 Of 30) 04/14/2024

It’s difficult to give myself grace.

Somethings feel like an infinite foghorn of ineptitude calling me through the

F O G

of my own delusions.

Every accomplishment, becomes it should have happened sooner

Every difficult notch, becomes a comparison of how easy it was for someone else.

It feels like these aren’t my feelings, but rather emotional residue graphed onto my skin.

Which is where I have often worn these emotions.

My life becomes a timeline of “Are We There Yet?”

Becoming more impatient as time seemingly drags on & drags me along with it.

This will not be a forever voyage

The winds of despair will not always fill my sails.

I can feel the lighthouse

Telling

me

not

to

S

I

N

K

below the waves.

Not to get wrecked by a sea of doubt.

Photo Taken By Rondald James Copyright Pending*

Written 04/14/2024

Copyright Pending

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