By ARIYANA ASH
Sweat rolling down my face.
Lungs burning, I reach,
I reach for anything that I can.
Some appreciation, some confidence,
Some love and somebody to accept me for who I am.
All of the different parts of my life: my struggles, my past, my coping abilities.
The vines swing wildly all around me,
In my darkness, I grab wildly for them.
Everytime I think that I made contact with a vine,
It slowly withers away,
Leaving my heart sore and with a handful of air,
Leaving me only to keep reaching.