Some days,
I am the person
who knows exactly what to do
and somehow does the opposite.
I hold the map,
then wander.
I build the bridge,
then burn it.
I speak kindly to everyone else
while fighting a war
against myself.
Some days,
I convince myself
I’m evil to the core,
that every mistake I’ve made
is proof of who I am.
I look at the things I want to save
and wonder why
I’m so good at breaking them.
Some days,
yesterday follows me home.
The same fears.
The same habits.
The same dance
I’ve promised a hundred times
would be the last.
And then morning comes.
Not with answers.
Not with miracles.
Just another chance.
A chance to choose differently.
A chance to fight
the things I shouldn’t do.
A chance to try
to save what matters.
A chance to believe
that who I was yesterday
doesn’t get the final word.
Maybe courage
isn’t becoming someone new.
Maybe courage
is waking up each day
knowing your flaws by name
and showing up anyway.
Maybe strength
isn’t winning every battle.
Maybe it’s refusing
to keep yesterday’s beat,
refusing to repeat
yesterday’s dance.
Because beneath the doubt,
beneath the mistakes,
beneath all the reasons
to give up,
there remains a quiet voice
that says,
“You do have a chance.”
And sometimes,
that’s enough
to change the beat,
take a different step,
and begin again.
For the few,
the proud,
and the emotional,
that beginning
is everything.
— Leslie Berg