Take my hand

Hold it tight

Let me walk you

Through the night

Take my hand

And don't let go

I'll walk you through

Thoughts unknown

And with my hand

Folded in yours

Be safe with me

From open sores

From wounds that bleed

From poisoned seeds

From unexpressed need

From scars unhealed

Take my hand

And be renewed

For the real me

Is the real you

I had an hour long phone call with someone close to me last night about the anxiety they felt, the help they needed and the obstacles they put up in front of the seemingly smallest of things.

The person knows they're suffering, but doesn't know where to turn. They feel they're living in a loop they can't escape and I, to a small extent perhaps, did what I could to help give some guidance. Hopefully, they're on the way to finding themselves. This poem is dedicated to that person. Admitting and facing a problem is one of the first steps in conquering it. Many small victories can make a big one - their words. Any step in the right direction, even if it's followed by a stumble back, is such a victory.

I can help and I can advise from my own history and interactions, but the hand that leads should be their own. I hope it leads them well. I, and my family, will be by their side.