Alone in the darkness, sometimes is how I feel. Trying to ignore it, but it all just seems to real. I search and search for the light, it has to be here somewhere. I hear others have found it, but this void just seems so bare. I search and I search, it’s never in my view. I grow more exhausted by the day, what more can I possibly do? Then out of nowhere, I see a small glimmer. I run and run, it keeps getting bigger. I make my way closer, and light starts to shine. I see a hand held out, it looks just like mine. As I reach out and grab, I finally see. The one with the hand out, of course it is me. No one can solve problems, if they can’t solve their own. So before I can help others, I must fix my own. Through these word that I write, I do more than dealing. It’s my own personal way, of medicating and healing. By my hand alone, I’ll fix what others damaged. I’ll get past all the thing, that previously I’d manage. I’ll use these hands to put away, a past that has its problems. And move along with my life, proud that I have solved them.