You’re a phantom, a wide-eyed ghost

Leaving nothing but tracks in the snow

They’ll hunt you down, spears and flame

Behind their backs as they call your name


//Come out, darling,

Out of your den

Say good evening

To these gentlemen

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These are the good days, dear.

Not exactly happy,


Not everything that makes you happy is good.


You wish all the problems would just go away.

But then they’d never be resolved.

And in the end,

you wouldn’t really be happy.

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This is what my anxiety over how I relate to people feels like:
Walking in snow.
Sometimes it’s just deep drifts, smooth, new – beautiful, even.
But every step forward I make is a step into untouched territory,
And I’m never sure whether or not my footing will hold.
Other times, it’s a blizzard.
It’s new territory,
And it’s coming at me from all directions at once,
And buffetting me,
And not only am I unsure of every battled step forward
But I can’t even see where I’m going.
Winter Walking – Stacia Joy