This wasn’t hope I found

When I first painted this, I thought I was holding a little piece hope I found. It felt small but powerful but also fleeting like it might fly away.

But days later, after waking up from a dream, I see it’s not hope that I found. It’s a piece of me.

Hope isn’t something I find. It’s not something that someone else can give me. It’s not hope I’m looking for.

It’s me. Hope is in me. It comes from so inside me, it is me . It comes from the will to go on. To love better. To be better. To be. It comes from the first bit of energy that moved in me. And I always had hope; I fought with hope in me from the moment I struggled to take my first breath, dying and fighting to live at the same time.

So now I can see, with everything of me physically, mentally, emotionally and energetically apart, my core exposes this piece...of hope that is me.