A poem

The only way out is through. That means walking through the darkness during day light when the sun is shining and music is playing and your brain is pitch black because it’s trying to kill you. 

The only way out is through. That means doing your treatments when they make your gut feel like it’s being eaten by fiberglass because one day they might make you feel better. 

The only way out is through. That means holding on for dear life while your brain goes through a whiplash that doesn’t exist to the naked eye because it’s on a non-stop merry-go-round on the inside.

The only way out is through. That means getting dressed to workout but the only type of perspiration you produce are tears.

The only way out is through. That means downing prescription pills the way you used to do with vodka and giving up alcohol because you feel drunk when you drink nothing but water. 

The only way out is through. That means praying to a God for a miracle but he can’t cure you because he has to make you stronger.

The only way out is through. That means convincing your brain that you can get through this when it’s doing everything it can to convince you that you cannot. 

The only way out is through. 

So through, I must go.