“Speak good things into existence.”

There are blessings weaved within every inch of the pain.

Even in the rain, I am learning how to find miracles.

And grace is still opening doors.

I will not operate in fear.

Honesty, love never stopped looking for you.

Are we or are we not meant to crave possibilities?

Nothing permanent grows from comfort.

Choose to make every pulse worth it.

The wound is real but so is the healing.

Would it be safe to say that I find you in every heartbeat?

In a way, hope is a type of courage too.

Love resides within each breath.

Using each heartbeat as a second chance.

But these downpours, they can all be a type of cleaning.

What is my ribcage if not a prison for hope.

And I held onto hope. Like a dear old friend.