I look around me, not recognizing my surroundings, although they are the same things I have seen for the past three years. never changing.
Sometimes I wish I was floating. lost. on a violet sea.
I long to hear the gentle lapping of the water. the sound of a fiercely blowing wind. to watch the storm clouds roll over.
I want the storms around me to match the storm within.
Sometimes I can feel the thunder. it crashes so loud inside my heart.
I long to look up to the break in the clouds. to see the sun shine through. clear and bright.
I long to believe that the sun will break through the clouds within, and shine light where the darkness thrives.
Lost is not always bad. the violet sea is beautiful. the rescue boat approaches.