Coast into the sunset.
The sea gulls cry out one last time,
Swooping down to scavenge.
Down the beach, a campfire blazes.
The water rolls up on the shore.
Fishermen bring in their nets,
After a day’s work is done.
A young boy in a straw hat
Reels in his fishing pole,
Closes his tackle box,
Picks up his bucket of fish,
And heads home in the dimming light.
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Did you, too?
Have you been there?
Do you, really?
I’m glad you’re here.
I’m glad I’M here.
This is work.
I want to get better.
I wish I could sleep.
I sleep too much.
I’m ready to commit to that.
I’m ready to quit.
I trust you.
Thank you for being there for me.
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Wrong table gnarled cooked silence on
A light twinkles
In the distance;
It is my hope,
Fragile, yet strong.
Will a big gust of wind
Blow out my candle?
I am protected
By many walls:
Friends and helpers.
That gust of wind
Can blow if it must,
But my light will not
I will use
The tools I’ve been given.
I will continue the struggle,
And I will win.
A light bulb turns on.
Words flow like breathing.
Keeping each other company.
Along for the ride,
Be there for you,
Whenever you need someone.
Any time, any place.
I’ll hold out a light
So you can see your way.
Brothers and sisters
Of mental illness.
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Sunset margarita boiled shrimp grilled
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Breathe on me breeze blows across the
Sand turtles and fish no straws or death